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The Boy Scouts of the Air 
in the Lone Star Patrol 


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The 

Boy Scouts of the Air 

in the Lone Star Patrol 


BY 

GORDON STUART 


Illustrated by Norman P. Hall 


The Reilly & Britton Co. 
Chicago 




Copyright, 1916 

by 

The Reilly & Britton Co. 




2'5J-9I6 


THE BOY SCOUTS OF THE AIR IN THE LONE STAR PATROL 


©CI,A43736i5 


CONTENTS 


JVn 

b’ 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I A New Kind of Hold-Up 9 

II A Real Boys’ Club 20 

III A Warm Finish. 32 

IV A Genuine Triumph 44 

V The Lone Stars on Guard 56 

VI The Lone Stars in Disgrace 69 

VII The River Camp 83 

VIII Twenty Mexican Troopers 97 

IX Tex Loses His Temper 109 

X Win’s Cross 124 

XI A Two-Story Battle 138 

XII A Grand Scheme 150 

XIII The Aeroplane Scouts 163 

XIV Alone on the Prairie 177 

XV A New Kind of Wireless 189 

XVI The Saving of San Marino 204 

XVII A One-Wheeled Automobile 220 

XVHI The Golden Vulture Again 233 

XIX The Lone Stars Triumph 244 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


The Boy Scouts of the Air gain their name. 

Frontispiece 

Tex jumped to his feet with a ringing shout. 

Let them have it, men! Page 54 

They pushed the ferryman out of his seat and 
themselves manned the oars. Page 106 

IVe got you trapped! Tex yelled. Page 200 



The Boy Scouts of the Air 
in the Lone Star Patrol 

CHAPTEE I 

A NEW KIND OF HOLD-UP 

The members of the Lone Star Patrol, Boy 
Scouts of America, or, to be exact, six boys of 
the troop of eight, were lounging about the club- 
house waiting the arrival of their patrol leader, 
Texas Clark. The boys were not in uniform 
and there was little semblance of military bear- 
ing in the ungainly sprawl of Bob Harris’ lanky 
frame in a big Morris chair, nor in the tousled 
hair of Fritz Hopper, astride the stomach of Sis 
Andrews in one comer, Fritz alternately pum- 
meling Andrews and dodging sofa pillows hurtled 
across the room. The pillows were propelled by 
the excited hands of Jetf Allison, who was him- 
self being pursued by a stocky catapult of a lad 
by the name of Shorts Prideau. 

Bob Harris, in his easy chair, looked bored, 
but the only other one in the room, hailed shortly 
9 


10 TJie Boy Scouts of the 'Air 

by Sis Andrews, with a muffled call for help, as 
Wully Williams, was doubled up with mirth at 
the antics of Shorts and Jeff. A second later he 
doubled up for another cause ; Sis Andrews, hav- 
ing dislodged Fritz and risen, a fair target for 
the pillow Jeff let fly just then, replied with a 
volley from either hand. Jeff being left-handed, 
the pillow released from his right hand could not 
be expected to do anything but catch Wully full 
in the pit of his stomach. 

Wully charged, blindly, for other sofa pillows 
were flying. The next instant he found himself 
tripped to the floor, a tangle of long legs and 
arms about him, while a big Morris chair gave a 
jarring thump over on its side; Bob Harris was 
in the mix-up. Sofa pillows were discarded; the 
boys piled up in a squirming, struggling, good- 
natured mass in the middle of the floor. It was 
the kind of boisterous fun that would have 
delighted the heart of any vigorous sixteen-year- 
old American boy. 

And then suddenly the pile fell apart. Every 
boy in it seemed to have but one purpose : to free 
himself, slick over his hair, jerk his tie to the 
middle of his collar and stuff his shirt into his 


In the Lone Star Patrol 11 

trousers. Someone was coming. Quick foot- 
steps resounded on the cement sidewalk, click- 
click-clicked down the stairs, and the door was 
thrown open. Then — 

‘‘Huh — it’s only Nate Walker,” came in a 
relieved cry, and for a second it looked as if the 
battle would once more be on. But Nate’s words 
stopped them — in mid-air, as it were. 

“ Say, fellows, have you seen him I ” 

“ Who? Tex? ” 

“ No — has he been here yet? ” 

“ Who? Tex? Think we’d be monkey-piling 
on the floor if he was around? It’s ‘ Tenshun — 
watch your step, Mr. Prideau! ’ when Tex’s on 
the scenery,” came from Shorts. 

‘ ‘ Thought I saw Tex just ahead of me, ’ ’ began 
Nate as he threw his hat on the pile in the 
comer and proceeded to skin out of his coat. 
“ So you haven’t heard the news? ” 

“ What is it? ” they all exclaimed, crowding 
around the newcomer, so curious that they did 
not notice the quiet opening and closing of the 
little back door and the tiptoed entrance of 
another boy, who stood within the doorway, a 
broad grin on his face. 


12 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Nate Walker held the crowd off a minute, 
enjoying the sensation of being it.’^ Then he 
commenced in most pompous tones: 

Our distinguished fellow citizen, one-time 
member of this illustrious organization, a charter 
member, I may say, of the renowned Lone Star 
Patrol, Mr. Winfield Zachary Scott Taylor, has 
returned to his home town, Chichua, Texas, from 
a two year’s visit up North.” 

‘‘ Win back! Wait’ll Tex hears about that,” 
yelled Wully. 

‘‘ Yeh,” chuckled Shorts in good-humored sar- 
casm. ‘‘I’d like to see Tex make him stand 
‘ heels together, toes out, head up, ’ like a mummy- 
dummy soldie laddie. Why, Win prett’ nigh 
busted up the organization when he wasn’t elected 
patrol leader.” 

“ Talk about cats and dogs,” remarked Bob 
Harris in his slow drawl. “ Win and Tex jest 
natchully trying to beat each other at every- 
thing they do, seems like they try to.” 

“ Look out. Bob,” warned Nate. “ As the 
sole representative here of the English language, 
I want to remind you that your syntax — fine 
word that, eh? — is like Jim Thorpe’s dog with 


In the Lone Star Patrol 13 

a flea on its tail: one end^s trying to swallow 
the other. 

It that^s a sample of the English language, 
give me Chinese,^’ grunted Bob; then more 
amiably: When’d Win get in? ’’ 

^ ‘ Late this evening — about four o ’clock, I 
reckon,” drawled Nate, with an attempt to imi- 
tate Bob’s slow speech. I saw him for just a 
second at the station with his dad. I whistled 
for him as I came by on the way here, but his 
folks told me he’d gone out. I thought maybe 
he was here. I wonder what’s keeping Tex.” 

‘‘ Why I’ve been here for the last five min- 
utes,” began a quiet voice from the doorway. 
Every boy looked guilty as he '^iheeled in the 
direction of the voice, while shoulders went back, 
heels clicked together and hands went snappily 
to the forehead in salute. I was just about 
ready to go out again — thought I’d got into the 
wrong place by mistake — ” 

But we’re not in uniform — and this isn’t a 
regular meeting — ’ ’ began Fritz Hopper. 

‘‘ A Boy Scout is a Boy Scout even in a bath- 
ing suit, Assistant Patrol Leader, as you should 
know — ” 


14 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

And a kid^s a kid, and no one needs to be 
reminded of that,’’ shouted Shorts with an impu- 
dent grin. ‘‘We took a vote and suspended the 
rules. Sis Andrews had the floor — flat on his 
back — and Bob Harris was in the chair. Sis 
rose to a point of order, being contested — that’s 
the word, isn’t it. Professor Harris? — by Wully, 
who charged — Well, we were all to the point of 
disorder then and it was hard to tell just who 
had the floor, when in walks Nate Walker with 
the startling news — ’ ’ 

“ Win’s back! ” interrupted a half dozen 
voices. “ Nate says he thought he was on the 
way here — ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I saw him, ’ ’ quietly interrupted Tex. 

“Is he coming? What’d he have to say for 
himself? How long’s he going to stay? ” a half 
dozen voices shouted questions at him, but Tex 
only shook his head. 

“ I didn’t talk to him. But I’ve a hunch he’ll 
be here in about three minutes by the clock. He ’s 
changed a lot since he left two years ago — ’ ’ 

“ Why, I didn’t think so — ” began Nate. 

“ Huh,” laughed Tex, “ he’s changed since you 
saw him, Nate — like this! ” 


In the Lone Star Patrol 15 

Tex grasped the brim of his soft felt hat with 
both hands and gave a vigorous tug that pulled it 
down over his ears. He threw up the collar of 
his coat till it covered the lower part of his face, 
so that only the gleam of his eyes could be seen 
between collar and hat. The boys stared at him 
in bewilderment. 

‘ ‘ He ’s coming to hold us up, ^ ’ said Tex simply. 

A howl of laughter went up at that. The 
scheme sounded exactly like Win of old. Sud- 
denly Tex held up his hand for silence. A 
stealthy shuffling could be heard out on the con- 
crete. Then : 

‘‘ ’Tenshun! ’’ barked Tex in a low command. 

Prideau and Hopper to the Armory. Provide 
yourself with Lone Star forty-fours and retire to 
cover. You behind the sofa. Shorts; you under 
that pile of coats, Fritz. When you hear me 
cough — herumph! like that — commence firing. 
Get me? ’’ 

From the ripple of laughter it was evident that 
the other boys saw the joke as well; but the 
laugh died out in an instant as the door was 
thrown open with a bang. 

‘ ‘ Up with your hands ! ’ ’ 


a hoarse voice 


16 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

demanded, while a shining revolver swept around 
the circle with threatening alertness. Both 
hands, there, you, or Idl ventilate you! 

More than one boy felt a thrill of real fear 
at the rough menace of that voice. One and all 
they glanced timidly, first at the intruder and 
then at Tex, who stood calmly enough, both hands 
in the air, it is true, but his eyes never waver- 
ing. He even smiled a little. 

‘‘I’ll make you grin out of the other side of 
your face! growled the bandit. “ What have 
you to say for yourself? ” If this was Win 
Taylor, then it was a changed Win, for his 
muscular build and commanding voice were 
decidedly grown-up. 

The muscles on Tex’s cheek twitched. He swal- 
lowed hard — it looked as if he really were fright- 
ened. Then — 

“ Herumph! he coughed. 

The next instant — bang! bang! bang! bang — 
bang — bang! — two pistols roared from oppo- 
site comers of the room. The figure in the mid- 
dle of the room gave a yell of dismay, his arms 
flew high in the air, he threw himself full-length 
on the floor. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 17 

‘‘Hey! Fellows! Hey! Don^t shoot — iFs 
me — Win Taylor! ’’ 

For answer, eight youngsters gave a whoop of 
delight — and no little relief — and made a run- 
ning dive for the figure on the floor. Presently 
Win emerged, shaking off his assailants like so 
many playful puppies. 

“ Some enthusiastic welcome! ’’ he exclaimed, 
seizing Shorts by the hand and giving him a 
vigorous shake. The others followed suit, all but 
Tex Clark. 

Anyone who knew the two would have said 
they were lifelong friends. Unlike the other 
boys, they never quarreled with each other, never 
made threats, had never stinick the other a blow, 
and yet swoim enemies never watched each other 
more carefully. In every sport, every boyish 
activity, they were rivals. It had always been 
so, why, no one knew. Said Nate Walker once: 

“ Tex and Win remind me of a cat and a 
dog; it^s just nature for them to be suspicious 
of each other. If somebody could just get them 
to lie down together once, they’d be good 
friends.” 

So now Tex stood back and allowed the other 


18 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

boys to do tbe handshaking and welcoming. 
There was jnst the hint of a smile in his keen 
gray eyes as he looked on, but he was somewhat 
taken back when Win suddenly turned and faced 
him with: 

Well? ’’ 

Howdy, Win,’’ he said heartily enough, but 
without putting out his hand. 

‘ ‘ Oh, come on — shake, ’ ’ urged Win. ^ ^ It 
won’t hurt you to act as if you were glad to 
see me — ” 

Oh, but I am,” and Tex gave Win’s extended 
hand a shake that made him wince; ^‘mighty 
glad to see you back. ’ ’ 

Get out. I know better.” 

No, that’s straight. Win. I’ve been asking 
your folks for the last three months when you 
were coming back. Kind of wakes me up to keep 
ahead of you — and I need gingering up. ’ ’ And 
he grinned a healthy boy grin of good-natured 
frankness. 

‘‘ Suffering cats! ” exclaimed Shorts, before 
Win could offer a word in answer. ‘‘ There it 
goes again. The everlasting chip — been carry- 
ing it on your shoulder for two years, just wait- 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


19 


ing for to-day. Not satisfied with pretty nigh 
disrupticating this organization once, but you 
have to start something the very first minute.^’ 
Nobody’s going to disrupt the Lone Stars, 
Shorts. We need a little more pep, and Win must 
have laid in a good stock while he was up North. 
We’ve got too much sense to squabble like the 
rest of you kids, and we don’t believe in fighting. 
That’s contrary to Boy Scouts’ principles, and 
besides — ’ ’ 

“ Yes,” interrupted Win; “ besides, fellows, I 
haven’t the slightest intention of becoming a 
member of such a namby-pamby organization 
as the Boy Scouts, even in so illustrious a 
patrol,” his voice was downright sarcastic, as 
the Lone Stars/* 


CHAPTEE II 


A BEAL boys’ CLUB 

For just an instant after Win’s polite bomb- 
shell a cloud of stunned silence seemed to have 
settled over the Lone Star Patrol of Boy Scouts. 
Somehow, coming from Win, who had once been 
a Lone Star himself, his outburst sounded just 
a little like treason. Each boy felt that some- 
thing should be said in answer, yet each was 
silent, fearing to say too little or too much. It 
was Tex who finally broke the silence. 

‘ ‘ If we had a namby-pamby organization, Win, 
we wouldn’t think of asking you to join it. But 
you ought to know enough about the Boy Scouts 
to know that it stands for the highest ideals in 
sports, in true manliness and — ” 

‘‘ I know aU about that, Tex,” agreed Win, 
with a half smile that came a shade too near 
being condescending, and there was a time 
when your line of stunts would have satisfied 
me — but not now. The idea of the Boy Scouts 
is to keep us Mds as long as they can; mine is 
20 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


21 


to be a man as soon as I can. If you fellows 
can see any fun in your silly drills and your ever- 
lasting rigmarole about honors and nonsense like 
that, why go to it. My notion of a good time 
is — cutting loose and doing something. ^ ’ 

‘‘ Cutting loose and doing something! 
demanded Shorts, no longer able to contain him- 
self. Say! You ought to have been along 
with us the last hike we took up Snaky Canyon. 
It’d have kept you humping framing up excuses 
for not doing any more.” 

Win’s only answer to this was a doubting 
laugh. 

It depends on what you call ‘ being a 
man,’ ” Tex suggested. “ The fellows down at 
the other end of town think they’re men as soon ^ 
as they can roll their own cigarettes. It strikes 
me that the best way to grow into a man is 
through doing the healthy, wholesome things that 
make you a genuine boy. Nobody ever com- 
plained that the Lone Stars haven’t enough pep, 
and the Boy Scout life is vigorous enough to suit 
us; and I guess we could show your grown-up 
boy friends from the North a pretty merry chase, 
eh, fellow Scouts? ” 


22 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

‘‘You better bet! ’’ was the enthusiastic 
response. 

“ Well, being as how none of you boys have 
even been north of the state line, and don’t know 
any of the chaps IVe been running with, I don’t 
know as you know what you’re* talking about. 
Any of you ever swim across the Eio Grande? I 
thought not. Well, six of us swam the Mississip 
last summer, just for the fun of it. Any of 
you ever take a thirty pound muskellunge into 
camp with rod and line — after a two-hour fight ? 
Make a hundred and twenty foot jump on skis, 
or take a fifty-mile trip through the woods on 
snow-shoes? And did any of you ever go up 
in the air five thousand feet in an aeroplane? 
Those are what I call real stunts. Got any of 
them down on your Boy Scout list ? ” 

It is no use denying that the eyes of the other 
boys were fairly standing out as they listened 
to this recital. Sis Andrews voiced the general 
opinion when he blurted out: 

“ But you didn’t — you never did all them 
things yourself I ” 

Win laughed in good-natured contempt. 

“ I belonged to a real Boys’ Club,” he boasted. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 23 

‘‘ There wasnT a dead one in the crowd. What 
one couldn’t think up, somebody else could. We 
had everybody guessing what we’d be up to 
next.” Win didn’t add that this guessing had 
been largely responsible for his return south. 

“ But you never went up in any aeroplane! ” 
persisted Sis. Your uncle wouldn’t have let 
you. ’ ’ 

That’s where you’re off; he was the one 
that took me up. Uncle Mel is a genuine good 
sort; he believes in letting a boy learn by doing 
things. And he’s simply crazy about aviation 
himself. WTiy, he pretty nearly broke his 
neck when he was down across the line three 
years ago visiting my other uncle, Ed Brandon, 
over on Buena Vista Ranch. That was before 
he knew how to manage a plane. As it was, he 
only fell about fifty feet, and the worst he did 
was to dislocate his wrist and put the machine 
out of commish. 

Now he’s got a real flyer, and he’s made 
some great flights, I tell you. Steady as a clock ; 
absolutely no danger — you could take along your 
knitting. But I guess you’d drop a few stitches 
when he started looping the loop and dipping 


24 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

tlie dips. IVe got to admit that the first time 
he flopped clean over, my heart pretty nigk 
flopped too. But that was tame,’’ Win wound 
up boastfully, ‘‘ to the time that I took her up 
myself. ’ ’ 

The gasp of astonishment that went up at this 
calm announcement told Win that he was making 
an impression. He noticed with great satisfac- 
tion that no one looked up when Tex got up and 
walked over to open a window; there was no 
question who was the hero of the moment. 

But I don’t suppose you live-wire Lone Stars 
would be interested in hearing about an adven- 
ture like that,” he ventured craftily. 

Well, would we!” exclaimed Bob Harris, 
all the drawl gone from his voice. ‘‘ It beats 
Diamond Dick — and the best of it is, you 
know it’s all so.” 

But this is a Boy Scout meeting. I don’t 
want to interfere with your program. I suppose 
you have a certain amount of red tape to ran 
off the reel, and I’ve no desire to bust up the 
caucus with outside yarns. My testimony will 
keep till more important affairs have been dis- 
posed of.” 


In the Lone Star Patrol 25 

‘‘As if anything we've got to talk of could 
be as much sport as a bonified up-in- the-air 
adventure! '' snapped Fritz Hopper, to Win^s 
great secret delight. Tex was playing second 
fiddle, no doubt of that. Win could not resist 
a little dig. 

“ How about it. Leader Tex? Can the roll call 
and reading of the minutes wait? " 

Tex merely nodded. In his quiet way he was 
amused at the airs Win was putting on, at the 
same time, way down deep, determined that 
Boy Scout exploits should not suffer by 
comparison. 

“ Well,’’ began Win, “ when I first came to 
Uncle Mel’s he was away — hunting big game in 
central Africa — and the fellows around there 
didn’t take me up very quick. Of course, I was 
used to our way of playing down here, and that 
was a bit too slow for that bunch. I had a scrap 
or two with some of them, and came out best 
every time, but even that didn’t help. 

“ Then Uncle Mel came back. He saw I wasn’t 
having much of a time, and what does the old 
boy do but organize a little camping-out party, 
invite a half dozen of the livest chaps along — 


26 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

me with them, of course — and away we go into 
the Michigan pine woods. By the time Uncle Mel 
had taught me how to beat out every one of 
them at hooking trout and hitting the trail, and 
I had pulled in the biggest musky of the trip — 
well. Buck Ellis told me, that time I saved him 
from drowning when our canoe capsized in the 
rapids, that I was chief of the gang as long as 
he belonged to it. 

“ And take it from me, fellows, I had them all 
eating out of my hand before we broke camp. 

“ As soon as we got back. Uncle Mel started 
on his aeroplane again. It seems that Aunt 
Jessie had persuaded him to take that African 
hunting trip just for the sake of getting him 
out of the habit, figuring that lions and wild 
elephants were a heap sight safer than Uncle 
MeBs ‘ Bragonette,’ but Uncle Mel had been bit 
pretty hard. At first I was having too good a 
time with the fellows to pay much attention to 
the Dragonette, but Uncle Mel couldn’t talk about 
anything else and first thing I knew I had the 
fever myself. I pretty near plagued the life out 
of Uncle Mel — and Aunt Jessie, you bet! — to 
take me up with him. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 27 

I guess I never would have got to fly if 
it hadn^t been for the seniors at high school 
there. They stole the junior pennant — we had 
won it in basket ball — and sewed a wide strip 
of yellow cheesecloth right through the length 
of it, and hung it on the school flagstaff. Worst 
of it, they ran it up in a slip knot that couldnT 
be loosened from below. 

‘‘You bet you I shinned up that rotten flag- 
staff and cut her loose. 

“ And you bet Aunt Jessie gave me the royal 
jawing. But Uncle Mel just gave me a thwack 
on the back that pretty nigh let daylight through 
me, and he says : ‘ Any boy that can balance 

at the top of that twenty-year-old pipestem sure 
isn’t taking any chance in my sky-wagon. Come 
on, son, if you want a ride! ’ 

“ Shucks! It was like riding in a rocking 
chair — at first. Uncle Mel says he wanted me 
to get my ‘ air-legs.’ At that I was scared but I 
didn’t let on. Oh, I hollered once when he 
seemed to slip and fall about forty feet, but 
Uncle Mel acted as if he didn’t hear me. 

“ After that he took me up every week or so, 
when the weather was just right, and his motor 


28 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

tiptop. He showed me all about running her — 
on the ground. But every time when we were 
up about a thousand feet and I’d ask just to put 
my hand on her, to feel her purr, you needn’t 
think he’d do it. Not your Uncle Mel. 

‘‘ But I studied up all about aeroplanes until 
he had to admit that I knew as much about them 
as he did. And then Uncle Mel was called away 
to New York on business — and Aunt Jessie had 
to go clear across the state to spend a week over 
a wedding. 

Say — that was pie for Winnie. Buck Ellis 
and I had made up our minds inside of twenty 
minutes that we were going to take out the 
Dragonette. Of course we weren’t going up in 
her. We were just going out on the lake and use 
the propellers for pushing us along the surface. 
It was a fine scheme, a good deal like Uncle Mel’s 
invention — when it worked. 

“He’d been experimenting with a new water- 
landing attachment, something he ’d invented him- 
self. Put it between the landing wheels, and she 
could swim in the water or rise from it like 
a duck. It was a fine rigging — while it worked. 

“ That was for about ten minutes. We ran 


In the Lone Star Patrol 29 

too close to shore and were right nose-on to a 
long slim point of land, when I lifted her just a 
trifle so as to skim over. The lever jammed, and 
we kept on going up. I tugged and tugged, hut 
nothing gave. We were up over a hundred feet 
and out over the trees before I slammed that 
lever back home and had the Dragonette on a 
level keel. 

“ Of course we were both fair scared, but the 
minute we swung free and straight ahead, the 
blood came singing back into our hearts and — 
say! — you donT think for a minute we were 
ready to come down. We swung her in back over 
the lake again, and dropped her to about forty 
feet, so if we did fall, all we could get would be 
wet. I guess we were both so excited that we 
didn’t half know what we were doing, at that. I 
was kind of shaky on the turns, but we had plenty 
of room for wide circles, and luck broke with 
us until — well, all of a sudden something broke 
loose, and I could see that lake shooting up 
toward me at the rate of a mile a second. 

‘‘ We fell right smack alongside a bunch of 
city fishermen, and scared ’em about to death. 
They got us out, rolled us on a barrel, worked 


30 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

over us and thumped us till we fought back, 
and then packed us off home. Buck’s folks wired 
Aunt Jessie. The message got there before the 
bridegroom did. Poor Aunt Jessie! She never 
got to. see the knot tied. After she got through 
with me, I wished she’d stayed. But that was 
the end of my skyrocketing days, you can bet on 
that! When Aunt Jessie put her foot down, it 
stayed on the ground — and so did you.” 

So intent had all the boys been on Win’s story 
that not a word had been spoken. He paused 
now a brief moment and looked about the circle 
of eager faces. Eyes were shining and lips 
parted. His own eyes were bright as he added 
triumphantly : 

There. I guess you see now why I don’t 
want to pledge myself to the milk-and-water 
adventure diet of Boy Scoutery. ’ ’ 

No one had an answer for this, not even Tex, 
until Win went on to say: 

Guess that beats making tiny model aero- 
planes — kites, I call ’em — even if that does give 
you honors in the Scouts.” 

Then Tex spoke up, weighing his words very 
carefully, for he did not wish to offend Win 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


31 


and yet lie wanted to hold the loyalty of his 
fellow Scouts. 

‘‘No, Win, we couldn’t promise you anything 
like that if you joined. Boy Scouts are handi- 
capped, we’ve got to admit. Where we owe 
obedience and loyalty to trust, we place certain 
things ahead of fun.” Win’s cheeks became an 
angry red, but he did not answer. Tex continued : 
“ But there’s some good, clean, healthy sport in 
our Lone Star camp here. Win, and we’d sure 
like to see you join us.” 

“ You’ll see me join you when I see the fun.” 
“ Done! ” cried Tex eagerly. “I’ll take you 
up on that — or will you back out! ” 

“ You show me any excitement that’s got any- 
thing on that flying stunt, and I’ll — ” 

“ You’ll be a Boy Scout before the summer is 
over,” declared Tex with conviction. 


CHAPTER III 


A WAKM FINISH 

Win laughed. He laughed louder and longer 
than was at all necessary; but at each fresh out- 
burst Tex resolved all the more firmly that the 
Lone Star Patrol of Boy Scouts would have a 
new member by the name of Winfield Zachary 
Scott Taylor before the summer was gone. At 
last Win managed to smooth out the wrinkles 
from his face and the exasperating cackle from 
his throat. 

’Sense me, fellows, but I’m like the boy that 
was told that he didn’t have the tummy-ache — 
I’ve got inside information. There’s two good 
reasons why I won’t join. One is the Boy 
Scouts ; the other reason is that day after to-mor- 
row I’m ofi again; going to Buena Vista Ranch 
to spend the summer with Uncle Ed.” 

‘‘ But tain’t safe,” argued Wully Williams. 

I heard Judge Dexter tell your uncle last time 
he was in here, that he wouldn’t give a dollar 
Mex for his chances if he stayed there all sum- 
32 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


33 


mer. There’s been rancliliouses raided all around 
there. General Villa is burning and looting every- 
thing in sight. Ever since Uncle Sam sent our 
soldiers doAvn to Vera Cruz the Mexicans, espe- 
cially the bandits, have had a grudge against 
the Gringoes.” 

‘‘ Oh, pshaw — ” began Win loftily. 

Yah — ‘ Oh, pshaw.’ It isn’t two weeks since 
a bunch of Greasers came across the United 
States line and slaughtered an American ranch- 
er’s family not fifty miles from here. If there’s 
no danger, why do you suppose they’ve got the 
boys in blue strung all along, huh? ” It was 
Jeff Allison, coming valiantly to the aid of his 
chum, Wully. 

‘‘ There’s ten Americans at Buena Vista,” 
declared Win, ‘‘ and, moreover, there hasn’t been 
a raid within forty miles of there since the whole 
mix-up began. Carranza’s troops are in com- 
plete control, and Carranza isn’t doing anything 
to get Uncle Sam sore at him. You can jolly well 
depend on it that anywhere my folks let me go 
it’s safe for Mary’s little lamb. So, though 
I hate to leave you chaps — outside your uni- 
forms you’re not a half-bad sort, you know — it’s 


34 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

me for tlie Mexican mesa. If the bandits come 
on ns too strong for the men to handle, wedl get 
word to the Boy Scouts of Chichua to come to 
the rescue. Which do you carry with you on your 
scouting expeditions — a brass band or a machine 
gunf 

We don’t carry guns at all,” began Sis 
Andrews quite seriously. ‘ ‘ Our Boy Scout sticks 
are enough — ” 

Must look like sheep-herders,” exclaimed 
Win tauntingly. Chichua was in the midst of 
the cattle* country, and a sheep-herder was an 
object of contempt, as Win well knew. 

‘‘It’s a good thing you are our guest,” 
answered Sis hotly, “ or you’d soon look like 
sheering time with the tar pot handy. No,” he 
went on to Tex, who was trying to hush him 
up, “ let me have my say out. He might just as 
well know it now as later. It’s an honor to 
belong to the Lone Stars, and we’re not begging 
him to come in. The rest of us had to qualify, 
and I guess he’ll have to, too. He may be able 
to qualify for a dozen athletic badges, but a real 
Boy Scout is more than a bundle of educated 
muscles. You kept me waiting six weeks before 


In the Lone Star Patrol 35 

you^d let me join — on account of my rowdy 
ways. Win Taylor got a long session ahead of 
him, that^s all.’’ 

Hnh! ” retorted Win. There’s nothing in 
yonr old club that’d make me serve five minutes’ 
time. There’ll be more doing down on sleepy 
Buena Vista than the eight of you can stir up 
all summer. I’m sorry I can’t stick around here 
to give you Scouts a chance to convince me, 
but — ” 

At this point, Fritz Hopper, who had been 
whispering to Tex, spoke up. 

‘‘You may have a chance, at that. We’re 
going camping for three weeks next month. If 
our folks’ll let us, we may strike off across the 
river and wind up at Buena Vista — if you are 
willing.” 

“ Sure thing! ” exclaimed Win, cordially. 
“ I’m no grouch, don’t think that. It’s no fault 
of mine that I think you fellows are slow. You 
come on down to the Vista, and I’ll show you 
some brand new stunts, and if you don’t say 
you’ve had a good time. I’ll — why I’ll join the 
Scouts as a penalty. Just let me know a day 
ahead and I’ll be there to meet you.” 


36 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

All right/ ^ laughed Fritz; we’ll notify you 
by wireless — ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Oh, sure — ’ ’ 

‘‘ Well, we could carry out our end of it all 
right, don’t you worry about that.” 

You got a wireless outfit I ” questioned Win 
in no little surprise. 

Have we! We can send up to sixty miles, 
and we’ve caught messages from the army head- 
quarters nearly seventy miles away. And it’s 
all home made.” 

‘‘You may get a chance to use it, at that, if 
I can get Uncle Ed’s consent to rummage through 
Uncle Mel’s workshop there. Uncle Mel was 
trying to perfect a portable wireless for aero- 
planes, and he had everything there that went 
into the pudding. Keep your end open here and 
don’t be a bit surprised if I drop you a line 
some day.” 

Then Win began to show a more friendly 
spirit; in the half hour longer that he stayed he 
looked over the clubroom, nor was he sparing of 
his surprise and praises. It was a delightful 
meeting place the boys had — the basement of 
the to^vn public library, one big room, and two 


In the Lone Star Patrol 37 

smaller ones, used as gjnnnasium, reading room 
and laboratory-workroom. The walls were hung 
with trophies the boys had brought in from many 
a hike. A silver cup on the corner bracket 
proclaimed the Lone Stars champion Boy Scouts 
of the county in an open athletic meet. In a 
glass-domed case on the wall hung a great array 
of individual medals won by the boys. 

The workroom was neat and orderly, but every 
available inch of space held tools, appliances,' 
paraphernalia of one sort or another. Over in 
one corner was the wireless outfit, while down 
beneath the room-length bench was a great array 
of batteries of every make and description, both 
dry and wet. It was a thoroughly workmanlike 
place and the boys showed pardonable pride in 
exhibiting it. Finally Tex called : 

‘‘ Time to go home, men. Lights should have 
been out ten minutes ago.^^ 

Just a minute, Tex,^’ begged Fritz. Come 
over here while Win shows us something. ’ ^ 

Fritz, Win and Shorts were huddled over a 
drawing board. Win wielding a pencil in a rapid 
sketching of what looked like a chart. In a 
moment he had finished and he waved it gayly. 


38 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Here’s a scouting job for you Boy Wonders. 
Buena Vista Eanch lies in a valley, hemmed in 
on all sides by steep foothills — all but a stretch 
about a half mile long that borders a little river 
— the Thick Wash, Uncle Mel calls it on account 
of the mud it carries. There’s a ford across, but 
there’s always somebody on the lookout. There’s 
just one way you can get through without getting 
caught at it, and I’m the only one outside of the 
people on the ranch that knows about it, and 
there’s only one there who does. 

Well, here’s a puzzle map. Solve the puz- 
zle and the map’ll tell you the way in. And if 
you can get in without anybody’s catching you 
at it, why, I — I — well, you’re good ones.” 

Easiest thing you ever heard of,” laughed 
Sis. You just watch old Tex figure that out 
in no time. Won’t you, Tex? ” 

Not right now. Sis. My watch tells me we’re 
due home. And don’t forget that to-morrow is 
our Cache Hike. Don’t want to go along, do 
you, Win? ” 

What’s the idea? ” 

‘‘We have one every two weeks, to see who 
is to be janitor for the clubrooms for the next 


In the Lone Star Patrol 39 

half montli. We all stay here while the old 
janitor has a half hoards head-start. He carries 
with him two dozen little white flags — that is, 
they were white once — and a broom. He is sup- 
posed to stick one of the flags at every hundred 
paces, and to hide the broom within two hun- 
dred paces of the last one. Then he comes back 
here. Then we set out to find the broom; the 
last one to come back and report is the new 
janitor.’^ 

‘ ‘ Some exciting game, ’ ’ commented Win dryly. 
You just bet it is! all the boys exclaimed 
enthusiastically, unconscious of his sarcasm. 
Then Tex added: 

“ Might come along. Win, and show us how 
they do it up North, aeroplane fashion.^’ 

Ifll be here,’’ said Win with sudden deci- 
sion, and I’ll beat you in, old boy, if I have to 
be first to do it.” 

A great shout of derision went up at that, for 
the long legs and quick eyes of the patrol leader 
usually brought him home first. ‘ ‘ All right. Win ; 
you do your bragging now. There’ll be a more 
fitting time for me after the game. Come on, 
fellows; it’s way past lock-up time.” 


40 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

At ten o’clock the next morning eight boys sat 
within the clubrooms, while a ninth, Shorts 
Pridean, sped away, a broom trailing over his 
shoulder and in his hands a bundle of soiled 
white flags. A half hour the boys sat about chat- 
ting, and then as Tex arose, watch in hand, they 
crowded forward to the door. A half minute 
passed and then — ‘‘ Now! ” yelled Tex, at the 
same time throwing open the door. 

With a howl like a pack of dogs the boys broke 
out into the road. For just a second they paused 
in indecision, and then a yelp of discovery burst 
from every throat. There, in plain sight down 
the road, fluttered a tiny flag. The pack sprinted 
all the way — and then stopped stock still. Turn 
whichever way they would, no second flag was 
in sight. It was just lil^e Shorts; he was the 
worst tease among the Boy Scouts. Every other 
flag would be easy to find; the others would 
demand keen eyes and hard hunting. 

The pack separated, some to the right, some 
to the left, some straight ahead. Tex waited a 
moment or two, a frown of deep thought on his 
forehead. Then, still frowning, he turned about 
and began to retrace his footsteps. He walked 


In the Lone Star Patrol 41 

slowly perhaps a hundred feet, then a smile broke 
over his face. It was as he had thought; Shorts 
was up to his usual tricks. There, not a dozen 
steps from the doorway of the clubrooms fluttered 
a ragged, dirty- white flag — number two ! Shorts 
had doubled on his own tracks. 

Tex chuckled as he thought of the trick that 
had been played on the rest, but his amusement 
was short-lived. A shout of discovery sounded 
from off at the left. In dismay Tex gave a hur- 
ried look; it was Fritz Hopper and Sis Andrews, 
and the flag they had discovered must be number 
three. Tex ran , over to where they had been 
standing, but by that time all the rest had come 
up and darted off in search of the next station. 

After that the bunch separated. Tex found one 
station after another, and before long he realized 
that he had distanced the others. Win he had 
seen once or twice but now there was no one 
else in sight. 

But Win was letting no grass grow under his 
heels. He too found one station after another, 
and though he lacked the training of the Scouts, 
long experience with boyish games told him 
where the next hiding place was likely to be. He 


42 The Boy Scouts of the Air' 

lost little time in speculating; but in spite of bis 
alertness be felt vaguely that more than one of 
bis rivals bad passed bim. Also, to bis vexation, 
be lost track of the number of flags be bad found. 
It was with great relief that be at last emerged 
from a long gully just in time to see lanky Bob 
Harris taking long strides in tbe direction of 
borne, evidently having caugbt sight of bis goal, 
tbe broom. In a few minutes Win too was on 
bis way back from the sbeep-berder’s but beside 
whose mud-plastered chimney Shorts bad bidden 
bis staff of office. 

Back at tbe clubrooms that same Shorts sat 
in easy comfort counting tbe panting Scouts as 
one after tbe other loped in .to report. Fritz 
Hopper was tbe first. 

^ ‘ Bebind-tbe-deserted-sbanty, ’ ’ be gasped, then 
in tbe same half -breath: Where’s Tex? ” 

He looked bewildered when Shorts reported the 
non-arrival of tbe patrol leader. ‘‘ But I saw 
bim just ahead of me,” objected Fritz in per- 
plexity. That perplexity grew as Wully Williams, 
Sis Andrews and Nate Walker came in in a 
ragged sprint. To bis question, Where’s 
Tex? ” they could give no answer but to stare 


In the Lone Star Patrol 43 

down the road to where a cloud of dust finally 
cleared off to reveal Jeff Allison, nearly spent 
and breathing like the exhaust of a gasoline 
engine. 

Another figure rounded the last turn ; the 
long legs could belong to no one but Bob Harris. 
All were in now but Win Taylor and Tex Clark. 
Shorts voiced the feelings of all when he said in 
a tone that was almost a groan. 

Why don’t he come? We’re eternally dis- 
graced if Win beats him in.” 

Another cloud of dust came racing down the 
gray highway, too far off to be distinguished. 
One minute they were sure it was Tex; the 
next, they were sure it wasn’t. Then, just when 
they were ready to decide, the figure turned off 
on a side street. 

And then, just as the click of heels hitting hard 
and fast on concrete was heard around the next 
comer; just as Shorts Prideau jumped to his feet 
and threw up his hat with a wild hurrah and a 
shout of It’s good old Tex! ” a cool, even 
voice came from within the clubroom doorway. 

I say, fellows — aren’t you coming in?” 

There, behind them, stood Win Taylor. 


CHAPTEE IV 


A GENUINE TKIUMPH 

■ It was Shorts who broke the dumb-founded 
silence. Well, what do you know about that? ’’ 
he exclaimed, turning from Win to look reproach- 
fully at Tex, who had dragged the honor of the 
Lone Stars in the dust — a considerable portion 
of the dust caking his sweat-streaked face as he 
leaned against the building trying to regain his 
breath. Well, what do you know about that! ’’ 
repeated Shorts almost scornfully, this time 
speaking directly to Tex, as if expecting an 
explanation. But it did not come. Instead — 
Attention, Scouts. Form ranks! The boys 
quickly and unquestioningly lined up in double 
column, with Tex number-one man in the first 
row. Squad, forward — -march! and the 

eight boys stepped out as one, leaving Win stand- 
ing open-mouthed in the doorway. Someway, 
Tex seemed to be taking the edge off his triumph. 
But the Boy Scouts were proceeding briskly down 
44 


In the Lone Star Patrol 45 

the street, and he hurried to overtake them, just 
in time to hear Tex say : 

“ I tell you Lazy Pete never lathered a horse 
yet unless something had broken loose, and when 
I saw him run his bald-face cay use till she 
dropped, why — well, I hiked over as fast as I 
could. And something sure had busted loose! A 
gang of Mexicans — outlaws, of course — raided 
the Circle X Eanch off the Marshall Trail. Lucky 
the men were in from the range, and they’re 
holding out while Pete brings help. I guess we’ll 
find a posse gathering down at Henderson’s.” 

It is only fair to say that Win was not the 
last to arrive at Henderson’s, but even he had 
to admire the orderly way in which the squad 
trotted up to the edge of the crowd already col- 
lected there, and at a word from their leader, 
halted and came to attention. 

A big, bearded man had stepped from the 
crowd at their approach. A look of surprise 
came over his face as he noted their uniforms, 
then he walked up to Tex. 

What’s this, young man, what’s all this? ” 
he demanded, wagging a fat forefinger under the 
leader’s nose. 


46 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Lone Star Boy Scouts/’ answered Tex 
briskly, then added, at yonr service.” 

Service? ” grumbled the big man. What 
service ? ” 

Scouting, first-aid, messenger — anything, 
sir. ’ ’ 

Hey — Doctor Blount,” called the man in a 
booming voice that roared above the hum of 
the crowd, ‘‘ here’s a bunch of kids want to go. 
Got any use for them? ” 

‘‘Not a particle. Sheriff, ” came a squeaky 
voice from the far side of the crowd. “ What I 
need now is some men who can wind a bandage or 
carry a stretcher — they’ll be needed by the time 
we get there.” The doctor was evidently grow- 
ing impatient at the delay. 

“ Beg your pardon. Sheriff, ” suggested Tex, 
‘ ‘ but that ’s just where we ’ll come in handy — ’ ’ 
“ Hear that. Doc? ” interrupted the Sheriff. 
“ These boys say — ” But he too was interrupted, 
for just then the doctor made his way to where 
they stood. 

“ Huh,” he said, then his eye brightened as 
he took in the capable-looking group. “ Why 
didn’t you say ‘ our Boy Scouts ’? I sure can 


In the Lone Star Patrol 47 

use them. Here, Lone Stars,’’ as an automobile 
whizzed around the corner and came to a halt 
with a great grinding of brakes, jump in. We’ll 
be on our way in just twenty seconds.” 

Win had an impulse to crowd in with his 
friends ; he would have given his right eye, 
almost, to have gone along. But the recollection 
of how the doctor had declined the services of 
mere boys, and how his manner had changed 
when he saw the Lone Stars, held him back. 
After all, apparently there was some honor in 
being a Boy Scout. So it was with a feeling of 
distinct respect, mingled with another feeling 
that was almost envy, that he saw the automobile 
move off with his young friends. Like young 
soldiers they looked, sitting there erect, none the 
less efficient because gratified pride shone in 
their eyes. As Win poked along toward home, 
after the last of the crowd had followed, on horse- 
back and in machines, the auto containing the 
Scouts, there was a deep question in his mind. 

When the Lone Stars had left Chichua perhaps 
a mile behind. Shorts turned to Tex and 
remarked: ‘‘ Bid you see the long face on Win 
when we climbed into the machine! ” 


48 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Tex did not answer at once. Finally he said 
slowly: I think Win saw for the first time that 

this organization is something more than a kid 
game like ^ rnn-sheep-run ’ or ‘ two-old-cat.’ 
He’ll be one of ns before the summer’s over — 
and he’ll make a good Scout.” 

But now the machine left the smooth govern- 
ment road, and cut in on a narrow trail that was 
badly rutted in spots and cut across every few 
rods by ditches, water runs; the going soon 
was too rough for easy conversation. Every now 
and then the boys had to pile out, sometimes only 
to lighten the load, but often to give a lift or a 
tug over steep grades. Before long the rest of 
the posse had caught up to them, and, gradually, 
following the orders of the sheriff, the driver let 
his machine fall to the rear. 

The hoys bemoaned their bad luck at this, but 
as a matter of fact, it was only this maneuver 
that got them into the fighting at all — and the 
rest of the posse lost out entirely. 

The Circle X Ranch was some fifteen miles 
out. It was located in a little valley bordered on 
one side by a shallow river. Plum Run, a branch 
of the Rio Grande, and on the other — the near 


In the Lone Star Patrol 49 

side — by a line of low hills. The country was 
rough ; there were deep gullies and twisting 
ravines where years before tiny streams had sunk 
their banks for many feet before drying into the 
sand. Only an occasional pool now showed where 
cascading currents must have rushed along in 
days gone by. 

It was natural to suppose that the bandits had 
attacked from the Rio Grande side, for from the 
very river bank a heavy growth of chaparral 
quartered across the ranch, extending within a 
few hundred yards of the ranchhouse itself. 
Moreover, as the posse drew near, every now and 
then they could hear the report of a rifle, followed 
nearly every time by a shout of derision and 
defiance from the ranchhouse, now visible 
although nearly a mile away. 

From their position at the rear of the strung- 
out procession the boys could see that the car 
containing the sherilff had stopped. The men got 
out, as each machine came up ; the horsemen dis- 
mounted. i A band of fifty determined Texans, 
armed with rifle, shotgun and revolver, stood 
there awaiting orders. The boys urged their 
driver to draw nearer so that they could at least 


50 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

hear the plans, for they had given up hopes of 
being allowed to take part, but the man refused. 

Doc says fer me to stop right yere,’’ he 
objected stubbornly, an’ right yere I stops.” 

A clump of trees hid the men from the observa- 
tion of the Mexicans over in the timber. Horses 
were quickly tethered and then the posse pioved 
briskly forward, spreading out as they hurried 
along. There was more stealth than dignity in 
their advance; the boys quickly surmised that 
the sheriff intended bringing his men into the 
shelter of the ranchhouse unobserved, if possible. 
Then the bandits would be coaxed into an attack 
— and met with a rousing welcome. But the 
plan did not mature. 

The foremost had proceeded barely a quarter 
of a mile down the shallow ravine that gave 
access to the rear buildings, when Tex jumped 
to his feet with an exclamation of alarm. 

“ Look! ” he cried, pointing to the north. 
They all followed the direction of his finger with 
their eyes, and then a look that was something 
more than excitement came into each face. Even 
their driver showed symptoms of having sud- 
denly lost his nerve. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 51 

A dozen horsemen, Mexicans, bnt of the 
cahalero class, daring fighters and peerless 
riders, had broken from behind the cover of a 
heavy copse. Their animated gestures plainly 
showed that they had caught sight of the group 
of horses and automobiles up ahead, and the 
caution with which they came forward betrayed 
their knowledge of the purpose of the expedi- 
tion. But they gave neither glance nor heed to 
the party in the lone machine perhaps a hundred 
yards to the rear. Still, their driver gave a 
deep sigh of relief when a low mound hid the 
little band from sight. 

He reached forward to reverse, and had lifted 
his foot to give the self-starter a kick, when Tex 
caught him by the arm. 

What are you going to do? he demanded 
fiercely. 

Cut and run for it! ’’ gasped the man, his 
face gone blue-white as skim milk and his hands 
trembling. 

And not warn the men? exclaimed Tex in 
dismay. 

‘ ‘ What could we do ? If we yelled, the chances 
are our men wouldn’t hear us, but you can bet 


52 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 


tlie Greasers would. And then we^d have to 
run, and our chance of making a get-away would 
he clean gone.^^ 

For a second Tex was silent. Then he leaned 
over and whispered a quick sentence in the man’s 
ear. The man shook his head in an emphatic no. 
Tex whispered again. The man continued to 
shake his head, but slowly a broad grin over- 
spread his face. 

‘‘You’re on! ” he chuckled at last, and the 
red came back to his face. Then Tex turned to 
his fellow Scouts. 

“ Listen,” he commanded. “ We’re going to 
run those Greasers hop-legged in about half a 
minute. Our brave chauifeur here has the only 
gun in the outfit, and it is only a six-shooter. 
Now, as soon as the gang comes in sight around 
that last bunch of scrub yonder, he’s going to 
open up on them with his Colt’s. And I’m going 
to let them have it with our forty horse power 
machine gun. Get me? We’ve cut out the 
muffler, and we’re going to start her off on high. 
We’ve loaded the cylinders with gas and grease, 
and the smoke’ll roll up so thick the gang can’t 
see us, and the engine’s going to roar worse than 


In the Lone Star Patrol 53 

any hundred shots-to-the-minute Maxim — while 
Sandy here pumps six bullets at them as fast as 
he can. Are you all game — and ready! 

There was no reply, but Tex expected none. 
Barely ten seconds later the first horseman came 
into view. Another and another and another, 
until fifteen ponies were halted just back of the 
sheriff's own big red car. The leader, a swarthy, 
full-faced man with black mustachios and a 
jaunty Stetson pushed back from his forehead, 
had just thrown his leg over the saddlehorn to 
dismount, when Tex jumped to his feet with a 
ringing shout: 

Let ^em have it, men! ’’ 

The effect was mighty realistic. A volley of 
explosions broke forth from that automobile 
engine that would have put to shame a battery 
of machine guns. Sandy’s revolver spit fire 
through the dense smoke that quickly surrounded 
them. He emptied the cylinder in one furious 
bang — bang — bang — bang — bang — bang! 
Then he reloaded as rapidly as smarting eyes and 
trembling fingers would allow, and once more the 
revolver spouted fire — but little destruction, for 
after that first quick half-dozen shots the smoke 


54 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

killed his aim — and tlie horses of his own party 
were almost in the line of fire. 

As nearly as the boys could tell in the chaos of 
din and gasoline clouds, there was no answering 
volley. At least, no bullets struck the machine 
or whizzed past them, but no rifie report could 
have been heard above the fearful engine. 

And now arose a momentous question. Dared 
they silence their “ machine gun ”1 Had the 
bandits fled, or were they pumping lead into the 
cloud of smoke, only waiting for it to clear away, 
for a fatal volley? The boys did not know. 
They were not soldiers, but Boy Scouts, other- 
wise they might have suspected the truth. Sea- 
soned troops, who will charge into the most 
deadly rifle fire, simply wilt before a machine 
gnin. Its speed and precision are uncanny — a 
charging company is annihilated in an instant. 

So when Tex finally ventured to shut off the 
deafening engine, the boys looked out on a clear 
landscape. Away off to the south they heard 
the patter of horses’ hoofs, growing fainter. A 
grin spread over the face of the patrol leader 
and quickly spread to the rest of the greatly 
relieved crew. All but Sandy — he was not 



Tex jumped to his 


feet with a ringing shout, 
have it, men! ” 




^iy-sc 






“ Let them 





In the Lone Star Patrol 


55 


smiling. His face took on a grim look, and out 
of the automobile he sprang, his empty revolver 
held threateningly before him. 

‘‘ Hands up! ’’ he commanded, striding rapidly 
in the direction of the bandit’s ambush. 

There, pinned under his horse, which had evi- 
dently been wounded by one of Sandy’s blind 
shots from behind the smoke, a man struggled 
desperately to free himself. At Sandy’s com- 
mand, after a desperate grab toward his revolver, 
the man suddenly gave up, and held up his hands 
in surrender. 

At a distance Tex had thought the man the 
leader of the bandits, but as they drew nearer 
he noted that his face, ugly and sullen enough, 
seemed stupid and spiritless except in a wild- 
animal-at-bay sort of way. For just a second, 
it is true, as Sandy’s revolver seemed to waver, 
a flicker of keen craft seemed to light up his face, 
but Sandy’s gun again threatened, and the man 
seemed to slink back into a shell of stupidity. 
Tex made up his mind to watch the man, and then 
forgot all about him the next instant. 


CHAPTER V 


THE LONE STABS ON GUAKD 

A sudden yell from the shallow ravine brought 
the boys to their feet in fright, but sight of the 
sheriff striding toward them made them feel 
foolish. 

What in thunder you boys trying to do? ’’ 
roared the sheriff. Fightin’ this battle all by 
your lonesome? ’’ 

‘‘We have met the enemy and they are ours,’’ 
quoted Nate Walker boastingly, then — “ That 
is, he is.” He pointed toward the injured bandit. 

“ Huh! ” grunted the sheriff in grudging 
admiration. Then he turned to Tex. “ Pine 
Boy Scouts you fellows are! Going to let the 
man stay there under that horse all day — and 
going to let the horse suffer? Come on here; 
give us a hand.” 

The man was soon freed, but when they tried 
to put him on his feet he collapsed with a groan. 

‘ ‘ Let him lie, boys ; here comes Doc. He ’ll 
56 


In the Lone Star Patrol 57 

tell us how dead he is. In the meanwhile we’ll 
look after his mount.” 

The horse was vitally wounded, and a well 
placed bullet soon put him out of his misery. 
The doctor, after a hasty examination, straight- 
ened up and began issuing commands. 

Here, you Scouts; get out your knives and 
trim otf a couple of short saplings for a stretcher. 
You’ll find an auto robe in the red machine 
yon. See how quick you can be ready.” To the 
sheriff he said: The man’s bad hurt. Looks 

like a broken rib or two, and that left arm’s 
got a compound fracture. May be internal 
injuries. We want to get him to town as soon 
as possible — though where we’ll keep him I 
don’t know.” 

‘‘ Beg pardon. Doctor — but how about our 
clubrooms? ” suggested Tex, who, after a few 
quiet directions to his troop, had returned to see 
of what further service he might be. ‘‘ The boys 
would be glad to have the experience in nursing, 
and — and you can trust us.” 

Huh,” grunted the doctor. ‘‘ Trust you — 
with a sick cat, maybe, but not with a man.” 

Very well, sir,” snapped Tex, his hand at 


58 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

tlie salute. That’s what you aimed to do when 
you left us behind here. I guess we took care of 
your sick cat all right.” 

‘‘ Got you there, Doc! ” laughed the sheriff. 

Those sich-cat boys sure saved that one-lunged 
hill-climber of yours from being turned into a 
Mexican baby cab. But, paregorically speaking, 
it does look as if those same clubrooms were the 
only place in town — outside of private homes 
— where we can stow the fellow for patching up. 
We can decide the nurse question later.” 

The doctor made no reply. Turning instead 
to Tex he ordered. Here, youngster; fetch me 
the little black case from the front seat of my 
car, and the big brown case from under the back 
seat — and be lively.” Tex quickly brought the 
desired articles. The doctor snapped both open 
and stooping over, began throwing out articles 
right and left. When the ground seemed suf- 
ficiently littered he began barking orders at 
Tex as if trying to rattle him. It was : ‘ ‘ Hand 
me that knife — now the Lysol bottle there. Bear 
a hand now. Good. That’s a roll of bandage 
you have — use it. You can sleep to-night — 
give me that big curved needle — ’ ’ and so on. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 59 

Through it all Tex managed to keep his head. 
When the last bandage was in place, the doctor 
allowed himself a pat on the boy^s shoulder. 

You ^11 do,^^ he said gruffly. 

By that time a dozen of the men had come up, 
the rest having gone on to the ranchhouse. The 
boys had their stretcher ready, and the still 
unconscious man was carefully lifted in. The 
sheriff's big touring car was made to serve as an 
ambulance. The man groaned once or twice, and 
finally opened his eyes weakly and asked for a 
drink of water. After that he relapsed into 
silence, his eyes closed, whether in unconscious- 
ness or not could not be told. 

Just then a man came galloping up on one of 
the horses from the ranch, bringing word that 
the attacking party had given up the fight, evi- 
dently having been warned by the party dis- 
persed by Tex and his troop. The man reported 
that no one at the ranch had been hurt, so the 
doctor felt free to return to town. 

The twelve men who had come up were left 
behind to guard the camp, and the sheriff, the 
doctor and the Lone Stars and their driver 
packed themselves into two machines and began 


60 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

the slow journey back to town. It was well past 
dark when they got there. 

By the time the machine stopped in front of 
the clubrooms door, the captured bandit had come 
to. As they carefully eased him down to the 
gentle hands waiting below, in spite of his severe 
hurts, the man made an attempt to escape that 
in the fast-growing darkness almost proved suc- 
cessful. As it was, it took a good ten minutes^ 
search along the dark alley into which he darted, 
before he was discovered, huddled down behind 
an ash barrel at the rear of the Walker yard. 

The stretcher was once more brought into serv- 
ice and four boys toted him back to the club- 
rooms and into the big lighted room, where a 
couch was quickly turned into a very comfortable 
bed. Here the doctor changed his bandages, and 
having sent Shorts and Bob Harris to his office 
for necessary materials, made a plaster cast for 
the fractured arm. The double break was about 
halfway between wrist and elbow, and the flesh 
had been considerably tom by the man’s efforts 
to release himself from beneath his mount. A 
neat sling completed the job, and the doctor 
straightened up with a sigh of relief. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


61 


There/ ^ he said. Not so bad as I thought 
for. At least, there are no ribs broken. If he 
stays quiet, it’s only a matter of time till he’s 
better than ever. Who’s going to be the night 
watch? ” he asked Tex. 

I’ll stay, for one,” offered Sis Andrews. 

The folks are away anyhow — I was going to 
sleep over to Fritz’s house. How about you, 
Fritz? ” 

I’ll stay if somebody’ll go along past the 
house and tell my ma — she might worry over 
her baby boy if he didn’t come home to his 
evening mush-and.” 

So it was arranged. Wully Williams promised 
to come back after supper and bring a bully 
book he had just finished that he’d guarantee 
absolutely would keep them awake all right, all 
right. 

All right, boys,” said the doctor as he 
paused a minute in the doorway. I’ve written 
your instructions on that piece of paper. Pin 
it up on the wall. Give him the white powder 
there only if he’s restless — and if he acts nasty, 
why send for me. I’ll be in first thing in the 
morning anyway.” 


62 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

And don’t forget, boys,” added the sheriff, 
following close behind the doctor, that the gen- 
tleman belongs to me. I’ll look in now and then 
to see that he’s resting easy. But I guess those 
bumps and bruises will hold him safe till he can 
stand transportation. ’ ’ 

So the two boys were left alone with their 
helpless guest-by-compulsion. He lay quietly 
enough, thanks to the soothing qualities of the 
doctor’s medicine. When the sheriff returned in 
the course of a half hour with two tempting din- 
ners from the town’s lone restaurant, the man 
was still in deep sleep. While the boys ate, the 
sheriff produced a length of stout rope, with 
which he proceeded to secure the prisoner to the 
couch, gently but none the less securely. 

He laid a gun on the table and then after a 
moment’s thought, put it back in his pocket. 

No,” he said, you won’t need that. The 
poor fellow’s helpless as a baby. Still — ” nod- 
ding at the rope, we’ll see to it that he doesn’t 
fall out of his little crib.” He waved a laughing 
good-bye to the boys and left them. 

Before long Wully came back with the book. 

Saw Win’s mother on the way here,” he 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


63 


remarked. Win started for his nncle^s ranch 
this afternoon. She was awful worried after- 
wards when she heard about the trouble at the 
Circle X — wished she hadn’t let him go. Says 
Win told her to say good-bye to the fellows, and 
that he left a note here for us. Find it? ” 

A short search resulted in the finding of a 
folded piece of paper which had been pushed 
under the door, where it had been hidden by the 
rug. Fritz opened it and read: 

You fellows have all the Inch, Here you 
are off on a bully adventure and I have to start 
for the ranch without even hearing how you come 
out, ril call you up by wireless as soon as 1 
get the outfit ivorking, and you can spark me the 
details. Keep your end open, DonH forget that 
long hike youWe going to take, winding up at 
Buena Vista Ranch, HU give you a rousing wel- 
come, It wonH be Boy Scout style, but you 
wonH complain of a dull time, Here^s that chart 
— I fixed up a better one than the one I made 
last night. Follow the directions and youdl land 
plumb on the treasure of Buena Vista — and it^s 
some treasure. Half of Villa's army hunted for 


64 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

the particular spot marked with an ‘ X/ for 
nearly a week — see if youWe any better than 
they are, Pm off to get ready for your 
coming. Win/’ 

Win’s sure there with the ‘ up and at ’em, 
boys,’ stuff, isn’t he! He makes our trip sound 
like a hunt for buried treasure, a scouting hike 
through the heart of the enemy’s country, and 
a eat- ’em- while- they ’re-hot stunt all rolled in 
one. Let’s see if we can’t locate the hidden 
gold.” 

And three young heads bent eagerly over a 
roughly drawn map, where a big red cross showed 
plainly in the midst of shaded black circles evi- 
dently supposed to represent hills and mountains. 
Aside from a trail marked: Hoof it along 

here,” and a crooked line that wabbled in and 
out around the hills, marked: Canyon of a 

hundred troubles,” there was not a single land- 
mark with any label. But here and there was 
a crude representation of a tree, while a square 
just as surely indicated a house. A group of 
such squares to the south of the red cross 
undoubtedly was supposed to be the buildings 


In the Lone Star Patrol 65 

of Buena Vista Eanch, while in the upper right- 
hand corner of the map, a large square, daubed 
over with green paint, was intended, the hoys 
decided, to locate and describe the Lone Star 
clubrooms. 

He won’t think we’re so green,” asserted 
Fritz hotly, when we come down there and run 
otf with his treasure right under his nose.” 

But of course he’s just joshing about — 
Hello, there I ” exclaimed Wully suddenly. 
What’s the matter with our boarder? ” 

But when the other two boys turned there 
seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary in the 
attitude of the injured man. It is true he had 
shifted his position a bit, but his eyes were still 
closed. 

What’s the idea? ” demanded Fritz. 

For an answer Wully only chuckled softly. He 
walked over to the couch-side and looked intently 
at the man’s face. His eyelids flickered slightly 
but aside from that he gave no sign of being 
aware of Wully ’s close scrutiny. 

‘‘ Well,” said Wully, straightening up and 
turning toward the door, guess I’ll have to be 
passing on. Got an errand at the store before 


66 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

I go home. Let me know how you like Bob Rus- 
sell/’ nodding toward the book he had brought, 
^ ^ and — and take my tip and keep your interest 
in treasure hunting to yourself.” 

Now what in the dickens do you suppose he 
was driving at? ” Fritz wanted to know as he 
picked up the book. 

Wully always did think he was the most 
mysterious kid in the business,” grunted Sis. 

I’ll bet he more than half thinks Win was run- 
ning it straight about that hidden treasure. I’ll 
bet you toothpicks to tenpins that that book 
there tells about hidden gold or buried jewels or 
some such rot as that.” 

And, truth to tell, it did. But the two boys 
had no complaint to make. The story was full 
of thrill, and they took turns in reading it till 
they were almost afraid to look around for fear 
some desperate character would be waiting, pistol 
in hand, to shoot them down in their tracks. 

The hour of twelve struck on the clock in the 
library upstairs before the yarn was anywheres 
near finished. 

Sis turned to Fritz with a little shiver. I 
say,” he whispered, do you suppose one of 


In the Lone Star Patrol 67 

us had better take a nap while the other 
watches? 

‘‘ I don’t know,” answered Fritz dubiously, 
getting up to turn on another light, the shadows 
in the room looked so deep. ‘‘I — I — I guess 
we can stay awake better if we kind of sit up 
together and talk. I’m not afraid — of course, 
but — but we oughtn’t to take any chances of 
both being asleep when our friend there needs 
attention. ’ ’ 

Sis seemed greatly relieved at this decision, 
strangely enough, since it meant staying awake 
all night. The two sat closer and closer together, 
and their talk dropped into short whispers. The 
night seemed so still and — and scary. And so 
they sat there, an age of heavy eyes and tired 
bodies. And then — how easy it is to fall asleep 
when you’re dead tired and you’re up hours and 
hours past bedtime? 

Almost the next minute, it seemed, the two 
boys jumped guiltily from their chairs at sound 
of a rattling at the door they had locked early 
in the evening, and the cheery roar of a well- 
known voice. 

‘‘ Well, trusty guards, how goes the watch? ” 


68 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

It was the sherii^’s voice. Broad daylight was 
streaming in at the windows. 

Fritz sprang to turn the key and throw open 
the door, but midway across the floor he was 
halted by a dismayed cry from Sis: 

‘‘Fritz! Fritz! The bandit is gone ! ^ ’ 


CHAPTER VI 


THE LONE STABS IN DISGEACE 

It was an uncomfortable half-minute for the 
two boys. But it was an even more uncomfort- 
able five minutes that followed the sheriff's 
entrance. He said little in the way of scolding, 
but his impatient questions spoke volumes. And, 
when, at the end of the five minutes, he broke 
off in the midst of a question with a mut- 
tered What’s the use! ” and stalked through 
the door and slammed it after him, the two boys 
did not need to be told that they had been 
weighed in the balance and found wanting. 

Even Sis’s ill-natured complaint, He’s for- 
gotten all about who it was that captured the 
man in the first place,” did not ease their con- 
sciences any. And the next minute Fritz voiced 
the thought that had been hanging heavy on their 
hearts ever since the first discovery of the 
escape : 

The Lone Stars are disgraced forever! ” 
How can we ever tell Tex? ” moaned Sis. 


69 


70 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

There was no need of that. When, perhaps a 
half-hour later, the Patrol LfOader came in at 
the doorway, his dejected face and sagged 
shoulders showed that he had already heard the 
bad news. But he said nothing in the way of 
finding fault. Instead he smiled — not very 
cheerfully, to be sure — and asked: 

Had your breakfasts yet? ’’ 

Don’t want any,” glumly responded both 
boys. 

That’s where you’re wrong,” asserted Tex. 
‘‘ You’ll be hungry as bears inside of an hour. 
Come on up to the house; mother told me to ask 
you up for a bite — and it’s pancake day! ” 

The boys brightened at this invitation, for 
Mrs. Clark’s pancakes were famous. Shame- 
facedly they poked along behind Tex, went in 
by way of the Clark kitchen, and looked steadily 
at the floor all the way to the breakfast table. 

‘‘ Now look here. Scouts,” said Tex as he 
brought in a steaming pile of cakes and slid a 
half dozen on each boy’s plate, “ you’ve got to 
cut out the ‘ weeping sisters ’ stuff. There’s no 
denying you’ve gone and done it, but you don’t 
suppose for a minute that the Lone Stars are 


In the Lone Star Patrol 71 

going to let it stay done, do you? We^re going 
to find that man if it takes all summer to do it. 
Tell me everything, now, just as it happened. 

So the boys told the woeful tale, each trying 
to take all the blame. When they were done, Tex 
sat a long while in silent thought. At last, with 
a dubious shake of the head, he spoke. 

It doesn’t take much figuring to decide that 
the man either got out of town or is still in 
it. Either way is possible, as there are plenty 
of Mexicans here who would hide him, and the 
same ones would undoubtedly supply him with a 
horse. But the sheriff says there isn’t a single 
horse missing from town, and it’s my guess that 
the bandit hasn’t got very — ” 

Oh, Texas,” came an interrupting call from 
the kitchen, your father wants to know if you 
turned Baldy into the timber lot last night after 
you got back.” 

I left him in the little corral,” shouted Tex 
in reply. 

But your father says he isn’t there,” came 
the slow answer. 

A look of wild conjecture came over Tex’s face, 
that changed to a kind of disgusted certainty. 


72 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

He saw the same look on the faces of his two 
friends. Then — 

“ The bandit’s nm off with Baldy,” gasped 
the three boys together. 

And, so it developed, he had, for not only was 
Baldy gone from the corral, bnt a saddle had 
left its nail in the stable, and a blanket had dis- 
appeared from the seat of the bnggy. But 
beyond the gate of the corral there was no trace ; 
horse and rider might have vanished into the 
air so far as any evidence to the contrary was 
concerned. There was no hoof-print; no one had 
heard a galloping horse. 

The three Scouts made plan after plan in the 
next few minutes, each looking toward a speedy 
chase of the fugitive and his prompt recapture. 
But all such plans were quickly abandoned when 
Tex’s father came upon them in excited 
discussion. 

What’s that? You youngsters going chasing 
across the country on the trail of a desperate 
man, armed to his eyebrows, undoubtedly? Not 
much! I’m going down to the Corners, and 
there’ll be a posse out inside of thirty minutes. 
This is a job for grown men.” And Mr. Clark 


In the Lone Star Patrol 73 

strode away, a bit too high, and mightily, Sis and 
Fritz thought. 

‘‘ I guess we were the ones that got him in 
the first place,’’ blustered Fritz at Mr. Clark’s 
retreating back. 

Uhuh,” came the answer as Tex’s father 
turned unexpectedly and let his keen gray eyes 
take the starch out of the three rebellious young- 
sters. Looks to me,” he drawled, that if I 
had a photograph of the three of you, two of 
you’d be the ones that let him get away.” And 
he turned on his heel and quickly was out of 
sight. 

I’ll bet they never catch him,” predicted 
Fritz gloomily, and even Tex felt so downcast 
by his father’s refusal to let the Lone Stars 
take part in the chase, that he predicted absolute 
failure for the expedition. Still, they took a 
mournful satisfaction, along with the rest of the 
Scouts, in being down at the Corners when the 
posse of thirty men set out in pursuit. 

It was after seven o’clock by now, and the 
man must have had at least three hours’ start. 
There seemed little likelihood of their overtaking 
him, with the Mexican border scarcely twenty 


74 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

miles away. Once lie was over the Eio Grande 
there was little hope of finding any fugitive. The 
one hope lay in the fact that the man was seri- 
ously injured, and that he might, within a few 
miles have to give up his attempt at escape. 

But along toward night the posse began strag- 
gling in, empty-handed. A few miles out they 
had crossed a fresh trail. A tom bit of blood- 
stained bandage beside the old Squagmore spring 
some nine miles from Chichua, convinced the 
sheriff that not only were they on the right trail, 
but that they were gaining. The signs seemed 
fresher and fresher. But before so very long 
the sheriff gave a snort of absolute disgust and 
pulled in his horse. 

<< We^re sure a set of greenhorns, he 
announced conclusively. One of the oldest, 
moss-grownedest tricks in the mnaway game, and 
we all fell for it. We’re circling back toward 
town — following old Baldy back home. Our 
bandit’s either hoofing it across the border by 
now, or riding through the Mexican hills on a 
new mount. He turned Baldy loose at the spring ; 
the best scouts in the southwest have been trail- 
ing a blaze-faced old mnd-broken boss that 


In the Lone Star Patrol 75 

ouglit to laugh in our faces every time he 
sees us.^’ 

There was no hope after that, although the 
trail was picked up at the spring again and fol- 
lowed to the very banks of the boundary river. 
On the opposite shore was a little settlement, and 
a scow evidently used as a ferry came leisurely 
across at sight of the posse. 

The swarthy Mexican who sat in the prow 
answered their question civilly enough. 

‘‘One hombre, senors — jesso, si. He came 
ver’ early dis one morning. Seex of the clock? 
Si — sure, jesso. He make one big hurry up. 
Eight of the clock? Ah, yes, senors — jesso. 

“ You said six, before.’^ 

“ Jesso, sir. Seex or nine of the clock, sure.’’ 

“ If it’s any satisfaction to you to know that 
we know you’re a lying scoundrel, and dirty in 
the bargain, why you ought to feel plumb proud. 
Come on, men; the Greaser’s made his get- 
away, but he’ll lie quiet for a month or two, 
don’t you worry.” 

And so they returned in ones and twos and 
little groups, to Quichua, beating old Baldy, 
lame and stumbling, in by a scant half-hour. Not 


76 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

a word was said in the way of scolding the boys, 
but they felt it wise to keep as far in the back- 
ground as possible. In the days that followed, 
they found little pleasure in their Scout work; 
the uniform of which they had always been so 
proud, was not taken down from its nail in the 
closet. The Lone Stars had fallen upon evil days. 

Tex alone was not discouraged. He pretended 
not to notice that his fellow Scouts were ashamed 
to wear the Scout uniform in public; he made no 
reference to the Lone Stars’ one day of glory 
and the many days of shame. Instead he tried 
his best to stir up enthusiasm in the less con- 
spicuous practices of Boy Scout life. A long- 
cherished plan of a telegraph line connecting the 
house of each Scout with the clubrooms, was 
revived, and the system of installment was care- 
fully charted. The laboratory was carefully 
re-arranged in accordance with a diagram fur- 
nished by Fritz at the suggestion of Tex. 

But the Patrol Leader found his best card in 
the wireless apparatus. After their first 
enthusiasm at its installation months before, the 
interest of the boys had lagged. There isn’t 
much fun in one end of any signaling device. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 77 

True, the boys had boasted to Win of catching 
messages from the military station sixty miles 
away. But the messages were in code and there 
was no great sport in catching a message that 
made absolutely no sense. 

Now, however, there was Win, who had prom- 
ised to call them up some day. There was 
hardly an hour out of the waking sixteen that 
there wasn’t a boy within hearing of the receiver. 
Every time one of the Scouts jiggled a part of 
the apparatus every other Scout was at atten- 
tion, eagerly expecting to hear a call from Buena 
Vista. 

But day after day passed, without result, and 
interest began again to wane, and this in spite 
of the acquiring of a dozen brand new cells of 
dry battery, and a new induction coil that gave 
a spark of almost unbelievable length, making 
possible the sending of a message eighty miles. 
There was a little flicker of renewed enthusiasm 
for a day or so — just enough to result in the 
manufacture of a new coherer of great sensitive- 
ness — and then Tex realized that the Boy 
Scout star was in great danger of going out in 
smoke and ashes. 


78 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

And then came a day’s excitement that made 
all the difference in the world. It all began, 
really, the evening before, when the time had 
come for the yearly two-weeks’ camping trip of 
the Lone Stars. The boys were all eager enough 
to go, but somehow none of them seemed to 
relish the idea of visiting Buena Vista Ranch. 
No doubt the story of their disgrace had already 
reached Win. They were not keen to listen 
to the ridicule he was sure to have ready for 
them. Consequently, the suggestion of Shorts 
that they make the usual canyon trip was received 
with unanimous approval, though with little 
enthusiasm. 

Every detail of the trip had been agreed upon ; 
each boy had made his part of the preparations ; 
parents had been notified and consents secured. 
When they said good night, it was with the 
understanding that at six o’clock next morning 
they were to meet, in marching order, at the 
clubrooms, to set out, within five minutes there- 
after, on the ten-mile hike to Snake Canyon. 

The first part of the program went through as 
per schedule. Not so the second part, for Nate 
Walker, the last Scout to arrive, burst upon them 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


79 


with news that for a minute or so made him for- 
get his customary dignity. 

Say-y — fellows! Did you hear about the 
big news? Great Caesar’s ghost! Six hundred 
Mexicans crossed the Rio about forty miles 
above here and wiped out two big ranches — and 
that’s not all. Sheriff McBurry took four men 
down to San Saltio — that’s where our bandit 
crossed — and tried to arrest that Greaser that 
ran the ferry, as a smuggler. About twenty Vil- 
lanistas came to the rescue, and the sheriff and 
his men got such a good start on the way back 
that they didn’t stop till they’d gone past the 
Red Bridge, a mile beyond town. McBurry ’s 
calling out every man that’s got a horse and a 
gun. I wish we could — ” 

I know what’ll happen to us,” grumbled 
Fritz Hopper. Don’t I, though? The first one 
of our dads that sees us will give us orders to 
cut out our trip, that’s what.” 

Nobody’s going to see us if we stay under 
cover till they’ve left town,” suggested Wully 
Williams. ‘‘ What’s matter with hiding in the 
club rooms for half an hour? We’re not babies — 
to get scared because thirty miles away from 


80 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

our camp there’s a few Mexicans. Let’s go 
inside, I say.” 

Inside they went, although Tex hesitated, know- 
ing that above all else he owed obedience to the 
wishes of his parents. Still — in he went. ‘ ‘ Lock 
the door,” suggested someone, and Shorts quickly 
turned the key. Not an instant too soon, either, 
for almost the next minute a galloping horse 
came to a stop hefore the cluhrooms, and at once 
a heavy fist demanded admittance. Tex started 
toward the door, but Shorts motioned him away. 

‘‘ Keep mum,” he whispered guardedly. 

He’ll go away if we don’t answer.” 

But the loud knocking was repeated. And then, 
one of the boys — it was Sis Andrews — giggled. 
It was disastrous. The loud voice of Sheritf 
McBurry called gruffly: 

Boys! Don’t leave town under any circum- 
stances. A large force of Mexicans is rampag- 
ing along the border and no American is safe. 
Eemember, those are orders.” 

The horse galloped away again. The boys 
looked at each other in dismayed silence. Dis- 
appointment and disgust showed on every face. 
Silently, they began to pick up their things. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


81 


And then, so suddenly that it was all over 
before the boys realized the consequences of it, 
into the silence broke a sharp, metallic tapping — 
the click of the wireless receiver in the labo- 
ratory. Tex sprang to the door and threw it 
open. As quick as thought he was in the chair 
and had thrown the switch that connected up 
the batteries. He pressed down the key in three 
long flashes across the induction coil knobs 
and then sat waiting, but every nerve on edge 
— which was true, as well, of every other boy 
in the room. 

There was a long silence in which the hard 
breathing of the Scouts could be plainly heard, 
and then, click — click — click came from the 
telegraph sounder. Again Tex held down the 
key in one long flash. Again came a pause and 
then: 


82 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Every boy in the room knew his Morse alpha- 
bet. The message dazed them, left them almost 
gasping for breath. It was from Win Taylor. 

Buena Vista Ranch attached hy force of two 
hundred. Send help quick! 


CHAPTEE VII 


THE EIVEK CAMP 

Here was a pretty fix. They had been for- 
bidden to leave town — and by this time prob- 
ably every able-bodied man had been rounded 
up by the sheriff and was well started toward 
the Eio Grande. The Scouts looked expectantly 
at Tex; he would know just what must be done. 
But for a long time Tex only wrinkled his fore- 
head and said nothing. At last he spoke, and 
his manner changed ; he was the old Tex, 
decided, quick. 

a There ^s a time for obeying orders, and a 
time for disobedience. This is one of them. 
In the first place, weVe got to get word to the 
sheriff. And in the second place, weVe got 
to notify Captain Allen of Company K at Camp 
Driscoll. Finally, and that’s most important, 
without asking anybody’s advice, weVe got to 
get what artillery we can, and start off to the 
rescue. One Scout — no, two better go together, 
to warn the sheriff first, and then hike on to 
83 


84 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Camp Driscoll. Otherwise the sheriff wouldn’t 
let you go on — and Captain Allen wouldn’t 
think but what you were going back to town.” 

‘‘ Who’ll go? ” asked Shorts anxiously. 

‘‘ Any volunteers? ” questioned Tex. No one 
spoke up; it was evident that the rescue trip 
appealed to all as promising more adventure. 

Understand,” he went on, that whoever 
goes is to catch up with the rest of us. We’ll 
have to hoof it, of course, but the two messenger 
Scouts go horseback — I thought so,” he 
chuckled as a chorus of “I’ll go! ” burst out. 
“ We’ll draw straws, now, but hustle up. There 
isn’t a minute’s time to be lost. Shorts, you 
and Sis hike on down to my house and get old 
Baldy. If the pony is there, get her too. 
Otherwise you’ll have to get — well, there’s 
Nate’s bow-legged Prince you might fetch. 
Lively now; never mind saddles.” 

Shorts and Sis quickly left on their errand. 
The rest drew straws to see who the lucky two 
should be. Tex drew for Shorts, and Jeff Alli- 
son drew for Sis. He pulled both long straws 
— in this case, matches — and so he and Sis were, 
the chosen ones. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 85 

All right/’ announced Tex. ‘‘I’ll give you 
your instructions and you can pass them on to 
Sis. Eide as hard as you can, making straight 
for the Grande. You ought to overtake the 
posse, riding alone and knowing they’ve cleared 
the way ahead. If you reach them after you’ve 
crossed the old Bixon trail, cut back to that 
and follow it west till you make Camp Driscoll. 
Only one of you go into camp; if they try to 
keep you there you can make the excuse of 
going out to bring in the rest of your party. 
Now, then, listen closely. Camp Driscoll is 
about five miles from the Grande. We’ll figure 
to cross about eight miles up stream from there, 
so you can save a few miles by cutting right 
across. We’ll wait for you there, at any rate. 
All clear? ” 

“ Absolutely,” answered Jeff. 

“ Good. Now, we can figure on firearms. 
Where’ll we get ’em? ” 

“ The chances are pretty strong that we 
won’t,” declared Bob Harris. “ You can figure 
that the town’s pretty near cleaned out by the 
posse. I can get my twenty-two Winchester, 
and I know where dad’s automatic is. Anybody 


86 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

else got anything besides pocket knives and 
popguns to show? 

No one bad. Finally Tex observed: ‘‘ The 
place where we’re going to leave Baldy is my 
Aunt Nelly’s. It’s just on the edge of Texana, 
where we will cross. We can pick up some- 
thing there. I’ve got a little pistol here in 
my locker. That seems to be as far as we 
go.” He went to the door and peered out. 

What in the world’s keeping Shorts and Sis? ” 

‘‘ Baldy, probably,” chuckled Bob. Say, 
Tex, I’ll chase along to the house and get my 
fireams. I’ll pick you up out at the Hollow 
Tree.” He hurried out. 

Here comes the cavalry,” shouted Wully 
Williams, who had followed Bob to the door, 
^ ^ with old Baldy in the lead, by a nose — some- 
thing like three feet, that is. I say, Jeff,” he 
said coaxingly; you don’t want to trade 
places and let me go along with Sis, do you! ” 

I do not,” Jeff exclaimed in alarm. 

‘‘You fellows are going to have all the fun 
and excitement,” complained Wully. “ All 
we’ve got to do is ‘ hay-foot, straw-foot,’ till 
our eyes drop out. Nothing to do but push 


In the Lone Star Patrol 87 

one foot in front of the other till the stars 
peep.’’ 

Don’t you think it,” interrupted Tex. 

We’ve got a lot to do besides exercising our 
leg muscles. It’s up to us to find that secret 
entrance to Buena Vista that Win told about. 
Hey, Sis,” he called, as he and Shorts came 
in the door, what did you do with Win’s 
letter and the map he sent? ” 

Search me,” said Sis. I thought I, put 
them both in our desk yonder — Fritz says he 
saw me do it. But we’ve both turned every- 
thing upside down and inside out.” 

Anybody else seen them? ” demanded Tex. 
‘ ‘ Somebody must have read the letter. ’ ’ 

Nope,” admitted Fritz. Nobody but 
Wully. He brought it. And we still had it 
when he left.” 

Wully began to chuckle. At Tex’s sharp look 
the grin left his face, but not the red in his 
cheeks that told of suppressed mirth. Look 
here, Wully,” began Tex, ‘‘you’re wasting a 
lot of valuable time. Where did you — ” 

“ I didn’t,” indignantly denied Wully. “ They 
had it when I left, and I haven’t seen it since. 


88 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

But I’ll bet I can tell where it is, all the 
samey.” 

Well? ” Tex stormed. 

The bandit stole it! ” Incredulous eyes 
stared at Wully until he began to fidget. ‘‘ He 
did, I tell you. While Shorts sat there read- 
ing that letter and we kept talking about buried 
treasure and all that rot that Win had written, 
I was watching the man out of the corner of 
my left eye. And his eyes were just about 
popping out of his head. I suppose I ought’ve 
told Shorts and Sis, but it was such a good 
joke I didn’t have the heart to spoil it. Old 
fire-eater fell for Win’s bunk, that’s all, and 
that’s why he cut loose when our Scouts fell 
asleep over their knitting.” 

No one had any answer, least of all the two 
Scouts most concerned. 

‘‘I’ll bet the blooming Greaser’s down there 
now, with pick and shovel, most likely, poking 
and picking around in the dirt for an extra 
sized red cross tucked away behind some big 
rock by foxy Win.” 

“ Win didn’t say he’d hidden a red cross 
down — ” began Shorts seriously, but the howl 


In the Lone Star Patrol 89 

of laughter that went up effectually perioded his 
sentence. 

It^s a good thing then that I kept that rough 
draft Win made that first night, commented 
Tex. ‘‘ But weVe wasting time. Sis, you and 
Jeff are slated to run down the sheriff. Jeff 
has your instructions. Take your kit and 
be off.’’ 

But where’ll we run onto you fellows? ” 
objected Sis. 

I told you Jeff had the plan of march. Off 
with you.” 

It was only a few minutes after old Baldy 
and stocky Prince had gone clattering down the 
street, that six Boy Scouts filed out of the door 
and turned in the opposite direction. The boys 
walked along through the few remaining streets, 
for the clubrooms were near the edge of the 
town, very quietly; there was no need of obtrud- 
ing their departure into the attention of any 
mothers along the line of march. They walked 
along at a good rate of speed, but without 
hurry, for their kits were equipped for a two 
weeks’ stay and were no mean load. 

But town was soon left behind and then the 


90 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

boys tramped gayly along, stirring up the dust 
in great clouds as they kept step to a jolly Boy 
Scout song. It was not very long, however, 
before they were willing to pass up the road in 
favor of a rougher but grass-covered trail along- 
side, for the dust began to settle on sweat- 
covered faces, and cheeks and eyes began to 
smart. At the Hollow Tree they picked up 
Bob. In addition to his twenty-two and his 
father ^s automatic, he had resurrected an old 
smooth-bore that had been fitted for cartridges. 

Still, they made good time, especially consider- 
ing the fact that Tex, their guide, was none 
too familiar with their route and had to call 
a halt now and then in orde;* to identify land- 
marks only half familiar. Once, indeed, they 
had to face about and retrace their steps nearly 
half a mile. By that time the sun stood 
almost straight overhead, and there being a 
scalable canyon near with its customary trickle 
of water, one and all voted to stop for lunch 
and leg-rest. 

The meal they ate was simple enough, but it 
was also delicious. Nate Walker’s uncle kept 
the only meat market in Chichua. Nate had 


In the Lone Star Patrol 91 

prevailed upon his relative to donate a generous 
supply of juicy frankfurters from a newly opened 
case. These the boys now proceeded to enjoy. 
They built a quick fire of light wood that soon 
died down to a bed of coals. Each frankfurter 
^vas swathed in thick layers of paper wetted 
almost to a pulp. About this was smeared a 
half-inch coating of mud from the creek banks 
far below. Then the mud-dogs/’ as Bob Har- 
ris called them, were buried deep in the coals 
of the fire. When the mud had dried and was 
beginning to crack, it was time to pull them out. 
When mud and paper had been peeled away, 
there was a steaming, tender frankfurter, with 
all its juices cooked in, and the cases as brittle 
as crackling — the whole thing as delicious as 
confection. Besides this, the boys made away 
with a loaf of bread. 

During this time the boys had given their 
feet a rest by unlacing their shoes but without 
taking them off. Now, kits quickly repacked, 
shoes relaced, and once more they were off. 
But the going was harder for awhile. They 
had swung over within a mile of the Eio Grande, 
and along here a low range of hills twisted the 


92 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

indistinct trail till Tex was bewildered and tbe 
rest of the Scouts insisted time and again that 
they were going wrong. But always there was 
the Eio Grande to the southward, and Tex had 
only to point out that the route they followed 
lay practically parallel with the watercourse. 

What puzzles me,’^ he finally admitted, ‘‘ is 
that we donT come to a wagon road. There’s 
one witliin five miles of Texana, that I know.” 

That being the case,” suggested Shorts 
with a hopeful look at his lagging feet, why 
not make up our minds to stop along here for 
the night. It’s drawing dark now, and if it’s 
over five miles, we’d never make it anyhow. I 
move we drop our loads in the first likely look- 
ing spot.” 

That’s going to be mighty soon,” agreed 
Bob Harris, unless you want to swim for it, 
because yonder’s a creek that doesn’t promise 
wading. ’ ’ 

All right,” assented Tex, readily enough it 
must be confessed, for his feet too were aching 
after the strenuous day. ‘‘We’ll break ranks 
here — when the tail end of our army catches 
up — and rest up with one grand old swim. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 93 

Then, to save time, we’ll make camp on the 
other side. And here we are,” he added in 
relief as he dropped his load to the ground 
and stretched himself for a moment full length 
on a bit of turf. 

The rest quickly followed suit, but it was not 
long before the last gleam of the sun glimmer- 
ing on the water reminded the boys of the prom- 
ised swim. Clothes were jerked off with little 
regard for order and ceremony, and in about 
two minutes five boisterous youngsters were 
plunging into deep-looking water. The sixth 
Scout still sat midst the litter of kits and cloth- 
ing, industriously bent over the buckles and 
straps of his outfit. 

‘‘ Come on, Wully,” called someone. What’s 
the idea of the delay? ” 

‘‘I’m the only one in the gang with enough 
brains to know there’s fish in this stream.” He 
rose and displayed a light, many- jointed steel 
pole, now rigged with reel and delicate silk line. 
“ Have the frying pan hot and the grease pop- 
ping. I’ll bring you a mess of — catfish, if the 
croppies won’t bite.” 

No one laughed at this, for Wully usually made 


94 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

good his fishing boasts. He disappeared in the 
bushes lining the bank upstream. The boys 
finished their swim and then set about building 
a roaring fire whose coals would serve for cook- 
ing supper. Nate and Fritz brought armful 
after armful of fragrant southern pine branches 
from a clump of trees back a good hundred 
yards ; they would make wonderfully restful 
bunks. 

Darkness was coming down fast; Tex decided 
not to wait for Wully and the promised fish 
dinner, but set about baking some potatoes and 
frying a generous supply of ham. Bob Harris 
produced four unbroken eggs from a mysterious 
place of safety, and Tex scrambled them. All 
was ready, but Wully had not yet returned. 
Fritz raised his voice in a vigorous hulloo. 
There was no answer save the mournful echoes 
from the growing dusk on the other side of 
the river — creepy echoes of lonely, wailing 
unresponsiveness. 

A bit nervous and ill at ease in spite of him- 
self, Tex started up along the river bank, the 
others close behind him, not that they were 
at all frightened — Oh, no, not at all — but to 


In the Lone Star Patrol 95 

see tliat lie too did not get lost. Still, as they 
hastened farther and farther from the faint 
gleam of their camp fire, hearts began to beat 
faster and less regularly. 

“ Let^s all call together,” tremblingly sug- 
gested Shorts. 

Tex nodded anxiously, and had raised his hand 
in the customary Boy Scout manner as a signal 
to begin when — 

Crash — crackle — crash! from the thickly 
lined bank, as of someone in terror-stricken 
flight. A sharp cry of fear, too panicky to be 
really loud, sounded almost upon the little band 
of rescuers, a band too frightened to run. 

And then, across the stream, narrowed here 
to less than fifty yards, crash! crash! of more 
than one man, creature or thing undoubtedly 
in headlong pursuit. That was the last terrify- 
ing element needed. The rush of a panting boy, 
his face showing its pallor even in the darkness, 
a gasping cry of ‘‘ Kun, fellows, run! ” on his 
trembling lips, could not impart another frac- 
tion of speed to their runaway feet. 

Only at the camp fire did they pause, and 
then only to smother the few remaining embers. 


96 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Tliat done, Wully found breatli to whisper 
hoarsely : 

‘ ‘ Mexicans — on horseback — almost ran right 
into me — didn’t see ’em till right on top. They 
swam their horses across, and then heard me — 
heard me as I started up the bank. I couldn’t 
see but two, but must have been a dozen 
more! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


TWENTY MEXICAN TKOOPEES 

Although the boys finally mustered up enough 
courage to stay in their chosen camp for the 
night, they did not dare relight their fire. They 
ate the supper that was now stone cold, by the 
light of a few scattered stars, and then sat 
about, well in the murky shadows of the trees, 
talking in scared whispers. When at last they 
spread their blankets to bunk in, for the night 
though decidedly warm, was damp, they slept 
fitfully, two of the Scouts standing guard 
together for their share of the night. 

The moon burst forth from behind the clouds 
about a half hour after midnight, during the 
watch of Fritz and Nate. Its light moved across 
the rippling water in a little patch of silver- 
pointed brilliance, then touched the dark rim 
of the opposite shore and slipped across a level 
stretch and out of sight. But as it climbed the 
bushy river bank it revealed a sight that brought 
a cry of alarm to the lips of Fritz, a cry that, 
97 


98 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

low and guarded as it was, tumbled every Scout 
quickly to bis feet. 

“ What was it? ’’ demanded Tex sharply, 
turning to Nate. 

Fritz is seeing ghosts, I guess,” snorted 
Nate. That seems to be getting to be a habit 
around here.” 

Well, I’d just have you know — ” began 
Wully hotly and none too quietly, when Shorts, 
who was nearest, clapped his hand over Wully ’s 
mouth and effectively shut off his speech. Wully 
was in none too amiable frame of mind. After 
their first fright, the other Scouts had rather 
scoffed at his tale of a dozen or more mounted 
Mexicans — and they did not let the imaginative 
Wully remain long in ignorance of their belief. 

‘‘ Wully was dead right,” asserted Fritz now. 

The moon was out for just an instant, and 
when the light struck that point of scrub yonder, 
I saw one of thenn His horse was drinking, and 
he stood by his head — and there was more back 
in the bushes! ” 

Didn’t you see anything, Nate? ” asked Tex 
dubiously. 

Listen! ” exclaimed Nate, instead cf answer- 


In the Lone Star Patrol 99 

ing the question. The boys strained eyes and 
ears to penetrate the silence and the gloom. 
Not a sound. 

‘‘ What — ’’ began one of the Scouts, then — 

Squash — squash — crack! from across the 
stream. Then for a single instant a pale beam 
of moonlight slipped between two heavy clouds, 
and there directly opposite them, a dull shape, 
its indistinct outlines undoubtedly that of a man 
on horseback, lurched up the river bank and 
through the bushes. 

That was all. Nothing else happened; but 
there was no more sleep in the Boy Scout camp 
that night. Indeed, the camp was moved back 
into the shelter of a heavy thicket, there to 
await the daylight. 

It was a heavy-eyed, spiritless crowd that sat 
about a half-hearted camp fire and ate a cheer- 
less breakfast, and a soggy one. For all through 
the early hours of the dawning a drizzle of 
rain searched through the low bushes and sent 
shivers up and down humped-over backs. A 
northeaster was paying them a visit, and it found 
little welcome. 

The Scouts revived somewhat after a brisk 


100 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

swim across the narrow river had started the 
blood to pumping through their numb feet and 
hands. To the accompaniment of chattering 
teeth the boys hastily climbed into their clothes, 
keeping a furtive lookout meanwhile for any 
signs of last night ^s gTiests. A survey of the 
river edge, now a dripping mud-bank, revealed, 
down near the water’s edge, a single hoof-print. 
There was no more chaffing of Wully — and no 
more lingering on the scene. Through thickets 
and slopes of chaparral, as far as possible, the 
little band of Scouts made its hasty way. In 
an hour they skirted the base of a high, rough 
hillock, and came suddenly upon the very bank 
of the Eio Grande. A three hours’ trudge along 
its course at last brought them in sight of a 
little cluster of houses. 

Texana,” announced Tex, then: I wonder 

if Sis and Jeff are there yet.” 

No one answered, but each stepped off a bit 
more briskly now that their first goal was in 
sight. Tex’s question was answered within a 
few minutes, for as they swung into the main 
street, there, tied in front of the general store, 
a squatty, barn-like frame building, stood a sorry 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


101 


looking nag, spattered with mnd, his ears 
drooped forward, his haunches sagged — it was 
Baldy. Beside him was the cayuse, if anything 
more dejected. 

Both horses pricked up their ears at the rous- 
ing Boy Scout yell that sounded the length of 
the town^s one street, but a more vigorous 
response than that came from two boys who 
separated themselves from a long bench hid 
behind the box-like veranda. 

“ When^d you get in? ” demanded Wully, in^ 
his eagerness forgetting Boy Scout rules, as lug- 
gage was tossed on the ground when Sis and 
Jetf came to meet them. 

Just did,’’ answered Jeff. ‘‘ We lost our 
way, cutting back miles into the hills on account 
of — ” 

We had a fearful time,” interrupted Sis. 
‘‘ We sure had to run for our lives. Poor old 
Baldy ’s prett’ nigh all in. If I hadn’t jumped 
mighty quick one time when he lost his footing 
on a steep bank, he’d sure have rolled on me, to 
the tune of ‘ good-bye. Sis.’ ” 

<< Why didn’t you follow the trail? ” Tex 
wanted to know. 


102 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Yes, why didn’t wel Ask Jeff. Why didn’t 
we? Well I guess! ” 

Greasers,” said Jeff significantly. A big 
gang of ’em — must have been twenty. We 
followed the trail along the Rio till we came 
to a little branch, and then cut in to find a place 
where we could cross. Went in — about two 
miles, wasn’t it, Sis? — and were just starting 
to swim our horses across, when we ran into 
the Mexicans — ’ ’ 

a There! ” cried "Wully and Nate together. 
Then Wully added: I guess next time you 

fellows won’t be so quick to guy a Scout. We 
ran into that same gang; it must have been. 
I saw them first, and then, along about mid- 
night, Nate here saw them too, but of course 
these wise ones here laid it to imagination. 
What time this morning was it when you ran 
into them? Twenty of ’em, did you say? ” 

All of twenty, but it wasn’t this morning. 
It was last night just about come-dark when 
we first ran into them. One of them saw us 
and set up a yell; the rest of the gang came 
running through the underbrush — sounded like 
a whole regiment. We kited off and — and — 


In the Lone Star Patrol 103 

well, we lost our way and didn’t get our bear- 
ings till we got back again to the same identical 
spot from where we started.” 

During the last of this, the boys had been 
exchanging queer glances of slow-growing 
enlightenment. Sis looked perplexed, resenting 
the broad grin with which Shorts favored him, 
and turned to Wully to finish his story. 

‘‘We didn’t know that, even right away. The 
horses were tired and we stopped to breathe 
them and to stretch our own legs. Then we saw 
the river, and I led Baldy down to drink. The 
moon came out just then, and I — I saw the Mexi- 
can camp. Worse than that, I saw the sentries, 
a big burly ruffian — : ” 

The Scouts simply roared at this, and Sis 
refused to continue. 

“ What’s the matter with you fellows? ” he 
demanded disgustedly. “ Funny, isn’t it, to be 
fired at by a whole blamed regiment — ” 

“ Oh, Sis, but they didn’t — ” began Jeffi. 

“ But they would have if we hadn’t made our 
get-away. The minute the sentry saw us, I 
heard him call the rest, and every man was on 
his feet, one-two-three. The moon was hid again, 


104 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

or we wouldn’t be here, I tell you. Now laugb, 
all of you — laugb and show your ignorance! ” 
Spoken like a Scout,” jibed Sborts. Some- 
body break the news to him gently. You do it, 
Wully. Or, Nate^ you can better clothe it 
in the ^ pulsing flesh of living words ’ that the 
poet speaks of.” 

But Wully ’s face only flushed an angry red, 
and Nate turned on his heel. As for the rest 
of the Scouts, and even Tex, they doubled over 
in painful mirth. It was Tex finally who had 
to explain, though the rest were still trying to 
unruffle the four Scouts directly concerned until 
the Bio Grande was miles behind them. 

‘‘ You see. Sis,” Tex said conciliatingly, the 
twenty Mexicans you saw in the moonlight were 
the badly frightened members of the Lone Star 
Patrol of Boy Scouts, while the dozen or more 
mounted troopers Wully was attacked by were 
two lone couriers from the same organization. 
It’s what you might call a double hoax.” 

Humph! ” snorted Sis, absolutely disgusted, 
and retired in a grouch to his seat on the bench. 

‘‘ All right. Scouts,” called Tex. Half-hour 
to rest, now, and we’re off. Come on. Shorts; 


In the Lone Star Patrol 105 

you and I will take the Mexican chargers to my 
Aunt Nelly’s corral.” 

So the two quickly mounted Baldy and Prince 
and started o:ff on a lame gallop for the west 
end of town. Perhaps twenty minutes later they 
returned, Tex carrying a long-barreled shotgun 
over his shoulder and a heavy Colts hanging in 
a holster at his belt ; Shorts bore aloft in 
triumph a paper-wrapped parcel. 

Come on, all you Scouts,” he called. 
“ We’re going to hold a love-feast. We’ll all 
bury the hatchet while we curl ourselves around 
a generous section of Aunt Nelly’s nectarinious 
strawberry pies. Scout Leader says the training 
table is suspended while we gorge. Come to it ! ” 

The last crumb of flaky crust stowed away, 
the last juicy berry smacked into place, and once 
more the Lone Stars took to the road. This 
time it was only a short hike. For a United 
States half dollar a lazy half-breed boatman 
agreed to ferry the Scouts across the river in 
his clumsy flatboat. It was an easy half dollar, 
at that, for the passengers, seeing the shore 
reluctant to part company with them more than 
twenty yards, thanks to the ferryman’s decreas- 


106 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

ing efforts, pushed him out of his seat and 
themselves manned the oars. 

Even then it was a good half hour before 
the scant half mile was crossed and the snub- 
nose of the boat grated on the pebbles of the 
Mexican shore. One and all piled out, pushing 
the boat off as they landed, so that WuUy, who 
was last, jumped into six inches of muddy 
water. 

Cheer up,’’ plagued Shorts, you’ve at last 
come to close quarters with something that’s 
Mexican. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I ’ll make you eat your words — ’ ’ began 
Wully hotly, but subsiding at a warning look 
from Tex, and concluding lamely, before you 
get back to Uncle Sam’s country.” 

‘‘We may all be glad to eat cactus buds and 
horned toads before then,” said Tex soberly, 
and the rest of the Scouts looked at him, all 
the laugh gone out of their systems. Tex was 
never a croaker, and they realized that the time 
for joking was past. 

“We’re in the enemy’s country,” he went 
on. “If we pull through with whole skins it’ll 
be because we’re lucky — or that we haven’t 



They pushed the ferryman out of his seat and themselves 
manned the oars. 


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In the Lone Star Patrol 107 

made any foolish moves. We’re up against a 
serious proposition, don’t forget that, and we’re 
only kids — kids trying to play a man’s game. 
We don’t want any false alarm, but it’s better 
to be safe than sorry. Above all, remember 
we ’re Americans — ’ ’ 

‘‘ E^ighto! ” exclaimed Fritz. One Yankee 
is as good as six Mex — ” 

That’s not the point, Fritz. We’re Ameri- 
cans — and that means that we’ll be shot on 
sight. We’ve stood here in the open long 
enough. Fill your water bottles and then step 
lively till we cut into the timber yonder. We 
can talk on the way.” 

No time was lost in obeying the orders of the 
Patrol Leader. As they swung along he 
continued : 

I’ve got the rough chart Win made. The 
route is marked due south from the river — from 
just what point I don’t know. We’ve got to 
chance that part of it, but when we hit the first 
spur of hills we’ll get our bearings from this river 
he’s marked. He shows a fair-sized lake, and a 
ford just above where the stream empties in.” 

And then we’ll find Win’s and Sis’s red 


108 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

cross flopping around somewliere behind the 
boulders/’ teased Fritz. 

‘‘ I hope you stumble over it and rub your 
fool nose in it,” grunted Sis sourly. 

But night fell before the weary Scouts located 
either mountain spur, river or lake. For the 
first time then since Aunt Nelly’s pies did the 
Scouts indulge in a real meal. The half-hour’s 
stop in the middle of the afternoon had given 
them barely time to munch the handful of hard- 
tack Tex had allowed them. Now they had a 
real meal, smoking hot: potatoes, fried, ham, the 
same, black coffee, an eighth of a can of baked 
beans per Scout. It was filling, and if the sigh 
of content that went the rounds was any sign, 
mighty satisfying. A low fire sent out welcome 
warmth, for the northeaster had left a touch of 
chill behind, and the boys huddled close to the 
glowing coals. But one by one they dropped 
back, and soon only the clouds and an occasional 
star watched over the camp. Over all, that is, 
but a wakeful boy in gray flannel shirt and 
khaki trousers, who hugged his knees and gazed 
into the fire until the night was nearly spent. 
It was Tex Clark. 


CHAPTEE IX 


TEX LOSES HIS TEMPER 

A few faint streaks of crimson began to show 
in the east when Tex walked over to one of 
the sleepers and touched him lightly on the 
shoulder. 

‘‘ Your turn to stand guard, Shorts,’’ he said 
as that Scout rose without a yawn and looked 
about him. It’s past three now; wake me at 
five. You might chase up to the top of that 
hill yon and take a look around. Good night; 
I’m off.” 

A few minutes later Shorts started on a 
leisurely hike over to the hill Tex had indicated. 
He was barely out of sight when another of the 
Scouts arose, stretched himself, yawning luxur- 
iously, and then busied himself fumbling in his 
kit. Directly thereafter he slouched o:ff in a 
direction opposite to that taken by Shorts. 

Shorts was gone well over an hour. Eeturn- 
ing, he built up the smouldering camp fire, for 
the morning air was still raw with the breath 
109 


110 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

of yesterday northeaster. Moreover, a good 
bed of coals would be a welcome help along about 
breakfast time. The fire crackling and snapping 
over a new supply of green branches, Shorts 
made himself comfortable and waited for five 

0 ’clock. 

At last, after a final impatient look at his 
watch he jumped to his feet. Only four-thirty. 
Well, they’ve slept long enough. I’ll wake every- 
body but Tex, and not call him until breakfast 
is ready. ” 

Fritz was first. At Shorts’ touch on his 
shoulder he jumped to his feet, striking out with 
his fist and barely missing Shorts’ chin. ‘‘I — 

1 — thought you were a — Mexican,” he stam- 
mered, ashamed of his fright. 

Glad you didn’t take tne for a Chinaman,” 
exclaimed Shorts, laughing in spite of himself, 
or I suppose you’d have kicked me.” 

I’m sorry, old man — ” began Fritz. 

‘‘ All right, but that wouldn’t have given me 
a new set of teeth if I hadn’t ducked. Just show 
how sorry you are by waking the rest. And then 
get busy with breakfast. Don’t wake Tex — he 
stood guard nearly all night.” 


In the Lone Star Patrol 111 

One by one tbe Scouts were awakened, and 
tbe work of preparing breakfast was soon under 
way. The last of the potatoes were fried, Nate 
Walker sighing in great relief, for this had been 
part of his load; a generous quantity of bacon 
was soon sizzling in the pan, while the fragrance 
of strong coffee hung heavy over camp. It was 
a simple enough breakfast, but the boys had out- 
door appetites and were willing to sacrifice 
variety and even quality in favor of quantity. 
Finally Shorts went over and awakened Tex. 
The Scout Leader did not respond very readily; 
in fact, his protesting grunt was far from Scout- 
like, and he only rolled over and closed his eyes 
again. However, Shorts’ second call was not 
so gentle, and it brought Tex to his feet in fight- 
ing mood. 

Next time you pull my nose, Shorts, I’ll bite 
off your hand,” he threatened, a final good- 
natured grin taking the sting out of his last 
words. He rubbed his eyes and looked about, 
a pleased expression on his face as he saw the 
hot breakfast waiting. 

“ Great stuff! ” he vowed enthusiastically, 
then: ‘‘ But where’s Wully? ” 


112 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

And where indeed was Wnllyf Suddenly 
everyone remembered that Wully had not been 
with them. It seemed like a joke at first — until 
the prairie land all about them had been scanned, 
and Tex and Shorts had strained their eyes in 
a wide survey from the top of the hill Shorts 
had earlier climbed. Then alarm began to take 
the place of exasperation at the delayed break- 
fast. And then it was Fritz made a discovery — 
one that brought a snort of mingled disgust and 
expectation from all : 

He^s gone fishing,” declared Fritz. His 
kit’s open and his jointed rod and tackle are 
gone. Look for water, and there you’ll find 
AVully.” 

But Wully found himself, for in the midst of 
the general relief occasioned by Fritz’s dis- 
covery, and while the boys were making ready 
to sit down to the now cold breakfast, a cheery 
voice called from behind the screen of bushes 
next to camp: 

Say, fellows, how would you like to pick a 
few bones for breakfast? ” 

All resentment fled at sight of Wully and his 
string of fish. Scout knives were out in a jiffy. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 113 

and in another the frying pan was filled with 
browning trout. That was a breakfast worth 
waiting for. When Tex finally ordered the break- 
ing of camp — an order repeated more than once 
— a corporaPs squad of Boy Scouts might have 
been seen stalking along, a fried fish in each 
hand and a reluctant look in the eyes that 
watched the rapidly diminishing morsel. 

The sun rose high, and hot. Sweat began to 
stream down boyish faces and every stream of 
water saw eight Scouts eagerly bending over to 
drink, trying to swim the fish they had swal- 
lowed.^’ Before long they left the level country 
behind and struck in on a long, winding trail 
that skirted the bases of hills rising higher and 
higher. The countryside was practically unin- 
habited. Sometimes, far off, they saw a house 
or a little clump of buildings, and once they 
nearly ran into a band of horsemen. Near noon- 
time they halted at a deserted hut where cold 
well water and a mess of fat butter beans from 
a garden fast going to seed, helped their scanty 
meal. This stretch of country had been fought 
over till the scattered settlers hid like rabbits at 
the approach of any strangers. 


114 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

After the hasty lunch, once more they set 
out, again dodging in and out among the hills. 
No river or lake had they found, and an uneasy 
feeling began to stir them. 

I thought you said that chart showed the 
river on the near side of the hills, Tex,’’ ven- 
tured Sis finally. 

‘‘ I did, and it did. But Win’s no map maker. 
And, besides, he probably wouldn’t mark these 
warty things on his map. Our river’s farther 
in, I’m dead sure of that.” 

‘‘ Say! ” exclaimed Wully, suddenly. ‘‘ How 
about that place where I was fishing? ” 

Thought you said it was a pond,” Tex 
countered. His tone was confident, but a little 
feeling of dismay began to grow in the depths 
of his heart. 

I said it looked like a pond, but I also said, 
and the rest heard me all right, that trout like 
those came from running water. I’ll bet that 
was our lake, and the river curved around to 
the west.” 

Slower and slower became the gait of the 
Scouts, and lower and lower sank their hearts 
as they thought of the many weary miles they 


In the Lone Star Patrol 115 

had trudged since morning — and would have to 
retrudge. Still, waiting the signal from Tex, 
their leader, they kept on, their path now a high 
valley topped on one side by a crazy half- 
mountain whose rough sides bore evidences of 
volcanic action, and on the other side a pleasant, 
grass-covered ridge. Tex was on ahead, almost 
out of hearing. 

‘‘I’d think he’d turn back,” complained Jeff 
in a low voice to the rest. “ No use being pig- 
headed over a thing like this. Tain’t his fault 
any more than any of the rest of us.” 

There was no comment until at last Nate 
Walker, lagging at the very tail end of the pro- 
cession, threw himself under the shade of a 
big tree and groaned: 

“ Eight or wrong, I’m going to rest. I’ve got 
six blisters on my feet. Come on, fellows; 
it’s time to use a little common sense and save 
our feet with our heads. Oh, Tex,” he called. 

Tex turned, impatiently, for Nate was always 
the first to give out on a hike. 

“ Tex, what’s the use of trying to make Mexico 
City by nightfall, ’specially when it’s in the oppo- 
site direction? ” 


116 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

What’s the matter? All of you on strike? ” 
The rest of the Scouts stirred uneasily and 
looked shamefacedly at each other. But not one 
rose to his feet. Tex remained where he was, 
as if waiting for them. 

Come on back, Tex, in the shade here,” 
coaxed Fritz. We’re all dead tired, and, to 
tell the truth, it doesn’t look as if all our hard 
walking was getting us anywhere. Let’s have 
a council of war.” 

I’ll call a council when I need advice,” 
returned Tex, almost angrily. ‘‘ And I’ll order 
a halt when it’s time, too. Eight now the order 
of the day is — forward march! ” 

Say, Tex,” Wully wheedled, you wouldn’t 
want a poor fellow to die right on his feet, would 
you? Just stop long enough to let me pass 
away in peace — ’ ’ 

Come on. Scouts,” called Tex sharply. 

‘‘ Be reasonable,” begged Nate Walker. ‘‘ Be 
human, Tex. What’s the use, I implore you — 
nay, beseech and supplicate — and tell us where 
you expect to get to. Eepeat the words of the 
noble Sheridan, ‘ turn, boys, turn, we’re going 
back ’ — and receive our undying thanks. ’ ’ 


In the Lone Star Patrol 117 

‘^We’re going right ahead/ ^ was the deter- 
mined answer. And as long as I’m Patrol 
Leader of the Lone Stars, what I say goes.” 
Now look here, Tex — ” 

I know you’re all tired — so am I — but 
we’ve no time to waste. I won’t order you to 
follow me; do as you please. I’m going ahead. 
Is anybody game enough to go through with me? 
Those who’d rather go back without me than 
to go ahead on my judgment, stay where you 
are. Those who are with me, show your colors 
and — come! ” 

There was a ring in Tex’s voice that stirred 
the loyalty in the heart of every boy. Jeff 
Allison, the first to grumble, was now the first 
on his feet. Right or wrong, Tex, I’m with 
3mu! ” 

The others were close behind him. As they 
drew near a slow grin spread over Tex’s face — 
the good-humored grin that made him the best 
liked boy of all the Scouts. His eyes lighted 
up with pride — and something else. 

Have a look! ” he cried, waving his hand 
ahead of him where the narrow valley opened 
out into a wide stretch of green prairie. 


118 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Beliold our goal: tlie Eiver of Doubt and the 
Lake of Mystery. It’s one on you, I reckon.” 

What a shout went up from the Scouts then! 
Sore feet and cramped leg muscles were for- 
gotten as they hustled along, laughing, talking, 
playing practical jokes on one another. It was 
a good five miles across the lowlands to where 
the river cut between shelving banks of a 
grayish stone, but they made the stiff hike in 
a little over an hour. When they reached the 
edge of the prairie grass Tex wisely called a 
halt. 

Easy on the drinks, fellows,” he advised. 
“ Off with your shoes first, and bathe your feet 
and wrists.” 

Shoes? ” shouted Fritz. Anybody that 
stops short of his backbone is a quitter. I want 
to get down and roll in it.” 

It was a light-hearted bunch of Boy Scouts 
that took that refreshing swim in the lazy cur- 
rent of that shallow river. The water was cool 
and clear; its touch took away every muscle- 
ache and worked miracles with tired, swollen 
feet. 

But Tex finally had to call them away, just as 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


119 


reluctant to give the order as the Scouts were 
to hear it. So a last bracing plunge, and the 
boys returned to the bank to bundle up clothes 
and kit so they could be held away from the 
wet while their owners swam on their backs 
across the short stretch of deep water. Then 
clothes were donned, and once more the Lone 
Star Patrol was under way. 

Tvro miles brought them to where the river 
climbed down a boiling stretch of rapids into 
a deep-looking lake. Wully looked at it wist- 
fully. The fish I could catch in there! he 
said, drawing a deep breath. 

Tex looked at his watch. ‘‘ Four-thirty,’’ he 
announced. ‘‘ Win’s ‘ cross ’ is about six miles 
from here — and so are the Mexicans. We’d 
best wait for dark. If we leave here at six, 
by seven we’ll be within three miles, with a half 
hour of daylight and dusk that we dare risk. 
Our larder’s low — see what you can land in 
two hours.” 

I’ll start you otf with a rainbow trout,” 
boasted Wully, diving into his kit and snapping 
his rod together. A gaudy “ coachman ” was 
his bait, and the next minute he was deftly . 


120 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

whipping the foam-flecked eddies with his light 
line. 

Jetf,” decided Tex, “ Ifll appoint you camp 
cook. Have dinner ready at five-thirty. Fritz, 
you and Sis scour the country for any fruit 
or such that you can find. Bob, you are official 
fish cleaner. Nate and Shorts and I will see 
if we can dig some worms and try a little still 
fishing. We’re not much on this tickle-and- 
tease-’em fiy-casting of Wully’s, but we’re good 
waiters for still fishing.” 

Quiet settled down over the camp, broken 
only by an occasional shout of triumph as a 
gleaming-sided fish rose to Wully’s fiy or made 
off with an innocent-looking grub at the end 
of a stout line. Bob was kept busy scaling and 
skinning fish, and after awhile Jeff’s skillet began 
to give off absolutely maddening odors. Fritz 
and Sis returned with capfuls of prickly pears 
of dead-ripe juiciness. After a fifteen minute 
fight with a rainbow trout that refused to live 
up to the rules of the game, Wully reeled in 
the twenty foot length of silk left him, and 
declared himself satisfied. 

Supper! ” yelled Jeff, to the great delight 


In the Lone Star Patrol 121 

of the Scouts, and after a much-needed wash in 
the lake, the boys crowded pellmell about the 
heaped dishes. 

Um — um! Fish dinner!” crowed Wully. 
“ Talk about the fat of the land. Give me the 
lean of the water! ” 

‘‘ Six o’clock,” reminded Tex at last. An- 
other mouthful and we’re on our way.” 

They were. Comfortably crowded, thank 
you,” as Fritz said, they hiked gayly along 
through the fringe of timber that nearly sur- 
rounded the lake. Once out in the open they 
proceeded more cautiously, but they made such 
good time that it was still far from dark when 
they reached the spur of the long mountainous 
ridge in which, they felt sure, was the location 
of Win’s cross.” 

Spread out,” ordered Tex. Shorts, come 
with me and we’ll scout ahead. The rest of 
you keep us in sight, but hunt cover at the 
first alarm. Not a sound.” 

Thus they proceeded, slowly and cautiously, 
stopping every few feet to listen, crouching low 
and parting the bushes without a rustle. Prog- 
ress was hardly noticeable, and within half a 


122 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

mile of steadily upward climbing the dusk was 
on them. The stars came out, and there was a 
wisp of a moon visible low down in the west. 
So they topped the ridge, unseen by any human 
being, though a prowling coyote fled howling 
at their approach. A dozen more paces, and 
they stopped appalled. 

Ahead of them sloped away a rock-strewn 
precipice, gashed with giant earth-slides; bold 
crags dropping sheer in dizzy cliffs or slashed 
with deep gullies. A dangerous climb it prom- 
ised by day; night made it absolutely impossible. 

‘‘ No wonder Win was so sure we couldnT 
break in unbeknownst to him,’’ said Shorts in 
a low tone. We’re up against it unless we 
can find his — ’ ’ the rest of his sentence died 
away in a whisper. He clutched Tex convulsively 
by the arm, at the same time lifting his other 
hand in a warning signal to the other Scouts 
who were now close on them. 

Did you see it? ” he whispered, trembling 
in excitement. Tex did not answer but looked 
questioningly at him. There by that — why — 
why, it ’s — gone ! ’ ’ 

Yv'hat? ” demanded Tex. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


123 


Two of them! ’’ breathed Shorts almost 
inandibly. Two of them — and I^d bet my hat 
one was a woman! ’’ 


CHAPTER X 


wm’s CKoss 

“ Now look here, Shorts,^’ said Tex impa- 
tiently, after they had made a painstaking search 
of the vicinity of the spot where Shorts insisted 
he had seen two human figures, ‘‘ they couldnT 
have melted into thin air, you know. ’ ’ 

I know that,’’ persisted Shorts doggedly, 
‘‘ and I know even better that I can trust my 
own eyes, I saw them, I tell you. There was 
a man and a woman, and they stood right 
here — ’ ’ 

Sure,” assented Fritz, who, with the rest 
of the Scouts, had by now come up. And the 
man snapped his fingers and said: ‘ Open — 
rye or oats or ’ — what was it, Nate? — ‘ Sesame,’ 
that’s it — and a gate opened in the side of that 
rock. IJm-huh, jesso. ’ ’ 

All right, night watchman for sick bandits, 
only don’t forget that a little sarcasm goes a 
long way when the other fellow’s in the right. If 

124 


In the Lone Star Patrol 125 

I had my electric flash lamp here I’d find it 
inside of ten minutes if it took me all night to 
do it. There’s some opening or something 
within ten feet of the spot where I’m standing.” 

“May he true,” agreed Tex, “but that 
doesn’t help much if we can’t locate it. I don’t 
know that it would if we could.” 

“ Why, don’t you see,” urged Wully, from the 
rear of the hunch, “ maybe this is the place 
that Win meant. Maybe this is his secret 
entrance. Don’t you think so. Shorts! ” It was 
hard to tell whether Wully was trying to help 
out his fellow Scout or to poke fun at him, but 
Shorts made no answer. 

“If we dared to strike a match,” suggested 
Fritz conciliatingly, “ we’d soon find out. 
Myself, I think Shorts saw his own shadow.” 

“ Without any moon! ” asked Nate. 

“ Anything as solid as Shorts’ head is bound 
to cast a shadow anywhere.” 

“ No time for joking,” admonished Tex. 
<< -We’ve got little time to waste. We’ll all turn 
in and give the place one more thorough going- 
over, and then we’ve got to scout out a place 
to climb down into yon valley. Now, Shorts, 


126 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

show us again just where it was you first saw 
the two figures.’’ 

There was no answer. 

“Shorts!” called Tex again, sharply but 
guardedly. “ No fooling now! ” 

But there was no answer. Consternation 
seized upon the Scouts. Shorts had disappeared. 

That the boys were genuinely frightened was 
putting it mildly. The thing was positively 
uncanny, for Shorts had stood in their midst 
a bare half-minute before, and there had been 
no chance for him tq sneak away. It was more 
serious than a practical joke, the boys felt sure. 
So for an undecided moment they stood shiver- 
ing. Then .Tex sprang forward in quick 
decision. 

“ We’ve got to take a chance! ” he exclaimed. 
“I’m going to light a match.” 

The night was still, and the match fiared up 
bravely in the darkness, showing seven strained, 
pale faces eagerly peering toward where Shorts 
had last stood. And then, as the light flared up 
full, each gave a cry of discovery, of relief that 
was half fear. 

What had before been a blank wall of rock 


In the Lone Star Patrol 127 

was that no longer. A black, yawning gash 
showed directly in front of them, as if someone 
had broken through a thin shell. There was no 
time for close examination; the match flickered 
out and the darkness seemed to close in on them 
like something alive and threatening. Hearts 
were pounding hard in that short minute of 
indecision. Then, as one, the Scouts rushed 
boldly toward the opening. 

‘‘ Just a minute! The voice was so hard 
and determined that a thrill of fear shot along 
the spines of the Boy Scouts before they realized 
it was their leader speaking. 

‘‘ We donT know but that it's a trap — or it 
may be a deep hole. WeVe got to risk another 
match, even if it means giving them a shot at 
us. Stand back. There's no use in giving them 
more than one target." 

Much as they all felt like protesting, not one 
spoke a word. Tex stepped cautiously over to 
the hole. The anxious Scouts sensed that he 
was fumbling in his pocket for his match safe; 
they heard it click open. A match scratched 
and flared up, the nervous Scouts expecting and 
fearing that the next instant a gun would blaze 


128 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

out. Not a sound, save the quick, hard breath- 
ing of seven boys. Then — 

‘‘ Come on, fellows. It^s a ten foot drop, but 
easy lighting. Give me about ten seconds to 
get to my feet and strike another match. 

The rest pressed forward to the verge, trying 
to pierce the black depths. A gleam of light 
shot up, revealing Tex safe on his feet a good 
dozen feet below. One after the other they 
jumped down and joined him. When the last 
had arrived, Tex had taken a candle from his 
kit and now held it high over his head. 

Not a sign of Shorts. 

They carried him off,’’ declared Nate in a 
hollow voice that reechoed from the damp walls 
of the place. A high, vaulted roof, hewn out 
of the solid rock, side walls of the same jagged 
irregularity, and a passage stretching far out 
of sight: that was all that met the searching 
eyes of the Scouts. A mine it might have been; 
the hand of man had undoubtedly fashioned it. 

‘‘ They’ll be glad to return him,” declared Tex 
grimly. Those with guns, in front. Come on.” 

Down the passageway they raced, the candle 
sputtering and casting weird shadows of flying 


In the Lone Star Patrol 129 

legs and swinging arms. Suddenly, a sharp, 
roaring sound, followed by a long-continued 
rumbling, came echoing and reechoing from the 
distance. It sounded like the report of a gun. 
Fear for Shorts’ safety lent speed to legs 
already taxed to the limit. And then, all of a 
sudden they stopped. 

The passage branched. A moment later the 
boys did the same. A few quick orders from 
Tex, and four Scouts, headed by Fritz, plunged 
into the righthand branch, a fresh candle light- 
ing them on. Tex, Sis and WuUy wasted no 
time in taking the lefthand turn. On they 
pressed, faster than ever, for now they were 
going sharply down hill. A brisk draft came 
chill in their faces, and the candle flickered 
dimly. 

Another sudden sound brought the three to a 
trembling halt. This time there was no mis- 
taking its nature. It was a human voice, dis- 
torted by the winding, echoing walls, but unmis- 
takably a man’s tones. It might have been a 
hundred feet or yards ahead ^ it was in their 
passage, that was certain. A moment the boys 
listened, and then Tex turned to his mates: 


130 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Wully, you light a candle from your kit and 
go back to the branch and get Fritz and his 
crew. Sis, you stay here and hold my candle. 
Better put it out as soon as I am out of sight, 
but have a match ready so you can light up 
at an instant’s notice.” 

Let me go ahead with, you,” remonstrated 
Sis. 

<< No — you haven’t any gun, and — and you’d 
be of more value right here. Off with you, 
Wully; there’s no time to lose.” 

So Tex went forward once more, but alone. 
The candle guided him for a scant dozen yards, 
then a turn in the passage brought him into inky 
darkness. Still he pressed on, feeling his way 
inch by inch, first upright, and finally on his 
hands and knees, making no sound, alert, fear- 
less, sure of himself, For what seemed an hour 
he groped forward in the darkness, straining 
every faculty. No further sound came from the 
inky void, no spark of light. It was trying work 
that required stout nerves. ‘ 

And then, so unexpectedly he almost cried 
out, right at his side it seemed, a voice rose in 
unintelligible question.' The voice^ was. that of 


In the Lone Star Patrol 131 

a woman! There was a rumbling answer in 
coarser tones, and then a terrifying sound that 
reverberated through the cavern. For all the 
world is sounded like a harsh laugh — and in 
that place! 

After that first involuntary recoil, Tex 
crawled nearer. He brushed against the wall; 
the passage turned again — that explained the 
unevenness of the sound he had heard. Now 
came a distinct sentence, from the woman. 

What you Traid of? WeVe distanced them, 
even if they did find the entrance. And we 
don’t know that they did. I’m tired of barking 
my shins and stubbing my toes. I want a 
light.” 

Tex’s heart gave a great throb of relief at the 
words; it was a girl, there was no doubt of 
that, and she spoke United States. But the 
man’s reply, muffled and uttered in jerky phrases 
as if he were short of breath from carrying a 
heavy load, took away all the joy. 

‘‘I’m taking no more chances with Yankee 
soldiers; we barely got away from the last 
bunch. We’re safe as long as it’s dark, and I’ll 
take you shin whole and skin whole to our fort 


132 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

if you 11 just sit tight and easy in the saddle/’ 

‘‘ All right, captain, let me ride pickaback, 
then,” chuckled the girl, but met no response 
beyond a disgusted grunt. 

For a moment there was silence, but Tex had 
a feeling that the pair was moving away from 
him. 3?hough his heart was well-nigh in his 
mouth one minute and in his boots the next, 
the Scout Leader followed gamely, keeping as 
close to the sound of their shuffling steps as 
he dared. 

And then, suddenly, instead of the hollow 
sound, as of close walls and high roof, he had 
a feeling of wide space. As he stepped straight 
ahead, his hand left the guiding wall, and grope 
as he might to right or left, his searching fingers 
found only space. He had stepped into a widen- 
ing of the passage, a vast room, perhaps. No 
longer could he hear any helping sound from 
ithose he followed. 

He popped stock still, fearing that his next 
step might launch him into unimaginable 
dangers; a chasm might yawn before him, and 
he cringed back in dizzy fear. The two ahead of 
him might have stopped; warned by his hard 


In the Lone Star Patrol 133 

breathing — it sounded like rushing winds in 
his own ears — they might now be lying in 
wait for his unwary advance. Or worse — the 
thought nerved him to advance — every second 
he lay there in cowardly fear, they might be 
drawing farther and farther away. 

So, still on his hands and knees, he groped 
his way, stealthily and painfully slow, all sense 
of direction lost. And then, so unexpectedly 
that his heart missed a beat or so, right at 
his elbow he heard a low, pitying voice. 

Poor fellow, I think he^s coming to. We 
don’t know he’s one of them, after all. You 
ought to light a match and see.” 

The man’s voice was farther off, as if the 
girl had stopped to rest. Tex could not catch 
the words, broken as they were by the man’s 
labored breathing; but the breathing itself now 
was a great aid to Tex. 

Once more he rose to his feet and walked 
briskly along, a scant dozen steps behind. And 
then it was he had a second shock — this one 
too much for him. 

A firm hand caught his arm, and a full, rich 
voice asked. ‘‘ Let me help you carry him 


134 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

awhile. You must be dead tired. Tex^s arm 
trembled, but be made no sound. 

^ ‘ I am ! ’ ’ came a muffled voice from up ahead. 

Then it was that the tension proved too much 
for Tex. Eealization came to the girl in a 
flash of fear, vented in a scream that shrilled 
deafeningly back from jagged far-off walls. Tex 
tore loose his arm from her frenzied grasp 
and fled. Each instant he expected to see a 
flash of light, the report of a gun, the whizz 
of a bullet. Instead, silence profound, more 
terrifying even than a volley. 

He could not run far. Blindly he crashed 
into the unyielding wall, to fall dazed and bleed- 
ing to his hands and knees. The instant his 
brain became clear he realized the import of 
the silence: the two he had followed were just 
as frightened as he. They had made good their 
escape. 

Grimly he rose to his feet, drawing his auto- 
matic as he tried to take up the unseen trail 
again. If only he dared to strike a light! But 
a moment later he was glad that he had not 
yielded to his first foolhardy impulse. Out of 
the blackness ahead all at once there gleamed 


In the Lone Star Patrol 135 

a tiny point of light, flickering higli np on a 
ledge that seemed to shelve back under a protect- 
ing cliff. 

Tex drew nearer, till the point of light was 
lost and only a dull glow showed where his 
quarry had taken refuge. Fully fifty feet up 
it looked, and there seemed no way of scaling 
the height. 

As Tex stood there revolving a dozen schemes 
in his mind, each as impractical as the one just 
discarded, his problem was solved for him. For 
a second the light above was obscured. He 
heard a voice. 

Hold my gun, and be ready to use it. I’m 
going back and see if I can lug up our prisoner. 
That idiot that scared you probably hasn’t 
stopped running yet, but if he has — ” 

‘‘I’ll take care of him,” vouched the girl 
meaningly. 

A burly shape, magnified by the light behind 
him, began to pick his way down a narrow path 
— a path that led in the direction of the spot 
>vhere Tex was standing. 

It was now or never, and Tex tensed his 
muscles expectantly, timing his attack so that 


136 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

every ounce would count. The footsteps drew 
nearer. Now! 

A grunt told that the Boy Scout ^s fist had 
found a sensitive spot, but the strength of the 
clinching arms reaching out of the dark made 
it plain that the boy was in for a desperate 
fight. More than one short-arm blow reached 
home. [Wrestling holds were found and as 
quickly broken. .There was no sound save their 
labored breathing and the dull impact of fists. 

, Slowly but surely Tex felt that he was win- 
ning. The grips of his opponent gradually 
became easier to evade or slip out of, his blows 
began to lack steam. And then, in one tre- 
mendous effort, Tex caught his foe about the 
legs and hurled him to the ground. But he 
himself lost his balance over a loose bit of rock, 
and before he could press home his advantage, 
the other was on his feet again, still game for 
more punishment. Once more Tex bored in. 
The other tried to ward him off, but the boy 
was not to be denied. A leg and body hold did 
the trick — but the fight was not over. 

Kate! The gun! Come quick! 

And then Tex Clark did a queer, unaccountable 


In the Lone Star Patrol 137 

thing. He laughed. More than that, he roared 
with merriment, so that he rolled off his adver- 
sary’s stomach, to find that adversary astride 
his the next instant. And still he laughed. 

Win Taylor! ” he cried, you old Mexican 
bandit, you! ” 


CHAPTEE XI 


A TWO-STOEY BATTLE 

IVe a notion to give you one good one for 
luck,’’ panted Win before be let Tex up. I’ll 
be sore for a week from your thumps. Oh, 
Kate,” he called, come down here and meet 
that Mexican desperado who’s been trailing us. 
It’s Tex Clark! ” 

What! ” cried the girl as she scrambled 
down from her perch on the ledge. Tex Clark 
of Chichua, the Boy Scout you’ve been telling 
me was the salt of the earth — and the pepper, 
too? ” She stuck out her hand boy-fashion. 
‘‘ Shake. I’m Kate^ — Kate Brandon, cousin to 
the noble young hero you see before you. And 
you’re Tex? You know, I thought Win was just 
making you up out of his imagination, from the 
way he kept bragging about you.” 

Aw, get out,” said both boys at once. Win 
in embarrassment, but Tex with a warm glow 
of pleasure. ‘‘ And he’s been boosting the Boy 
Scouts to the skies, till I want to jom myself.” 

138 


In the Lone Star Patrol 139 

She’d make a good one at that,” vowed 
[Win hurriedly. She’s the best all-round — ” 

Tomboy! ” laughed Kate. Mother calls 
me hopeless, and Dad — Dad just grunts at me. 
I tell you— ^what’s the matter! ” 

Tex had darted quickly to her side and jerked 
away the candle she held. As it flickered blue 
and then flared up again, he raised it and held 
it directly in front of his face, turning slowly 
about in a circle. 

What’s the idea? ” gasped Win. 

‘‘ Nothing, only I thought perhaps it’d be 
just as well to avoid being < peppered full of 
holes by my misguided but loyal Scouts.” 

Why, where are they? ” 

‘‘You didn’t hear them — they’re good 
Scouts — but they’re not more than thirty feet 
away. Watch.” He gave a peculiar piercing 
whistle, and the next instant six Boy Scouts 
dashed into the circle of light made by the 
tiny candle. 

“ Attention, Scouts,” barked Tex, and with- 
out a word or the slightest sign of astonish- 
ment at sight of Win, they formed ranks. 
“Salute!” cried Tex, and six hands snapped 


140 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

to as many cap visors in unison. Then Break 
ranks/ ^ ordered Tex. 

Wow! yelled the excited Scouts, rushing 
up to surround their leader and Win, but bash- 
fully keeping their distance from Kate. ‘‘ I say, 
Scout Leader Clark, she drawled, are your 
fire-eaters here afraid of a gal? ’’ 

All but one of us have got sisters,^’ laughed 
Tex. Come up, Scouts, and shake hands with 
our honorary member, Kate Brandon. She 
won’t bite.” One by one they were introduced, 
and then Tex asked the question all the boys 
had been anxiously waiting to hear. 

‘‘ How about the ranch, JV^in? ” 

But it was Kate who answered, all the joke 
gone from her voice. 

We don’t rightly know. The men were hold- 
ing the Mexicans off pretty well, but ammuni- 
tion began to run low. It was up to somebody 
to go for help, and Win and I volunteered, 
being as how we knew; about this old cave- 
mine — ” 

<< Why couldn’t everybody have come — ” 
began Fritz. 

[We’d been holding the bandits off two days. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 141 

and they^d riddled the ranch house with bullets. 
Poor Lem Thatcher’s got a fractured thigh, and 
Mike Doherty’s got a hole through his chest. 
Mother’s been bed-rid for two months and can’t 
move a foot. That’s why we couldn’t all make 
our get-away — aside from the fact that the 
Mexicans fire at a moving blade of grass, and 
there’s a quarter-mile of open between here and 
the fiimsy shelter of the corrals. Show them 
your shoe heel and your cap. Win.” 

Better show ’em your wrist,” disclaimed 
Win, pointing to a bandaged arm the girl hastily 
hid behind her. It was hot work, fellows, and 
that was before daylight this morning. We’ve 
been all day trying to break through up above, 
but three Mexicans were keeping guard within 
a hundred yards each side of our outlet. Come 
dark we made up our minds to chance it, and — 
ran smack into you! ” 

Great Scouts, we are!” exclaimed Fritz 
Hopper at this point. ‘‘ We’ve forgotten what 
we came after. Win,” he said anxiously, we’ve 
lost Shorts! 3?hose Mexicans must have got 
him! ” 

At this Win and Kate set up a genuine howl 


142 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

of laughter, shared in less boisterously by Tex. 
Win, still doubled over in painful mirth, hobbled 
outside the ring of light, returning shortly with 
a kicking, squirming object, laced with cords, 
a much-agitated gag in his mouth and a wrath- 
ful light in his eyes. 

‘ ‘ Cut him loose, quick ! ’ ’ urged Fritz. ‘ ^ He 
die laughing at the joke if you donT.’’ 

Shorts seemed about to die with some other 
emotion as he bounded up onto two shaky legs 
once he was released, but after a moment he 
subsided, turning upon the sympathetic Scouts 
to demand : 

‘‘Well! Going to stand here all night, grin- 
ning like idjitsf Thought you came to rescue 
the ranchers — going to do it with your hands 
in your pockets? 

“ All right. Shorts; lead the way. You found 
the way in; you ought to be able to find the 
way out again.’’ 

“ Oh, I can soon take you to the ranch-end 
entrance,” Win interposed, “ but what good 
can we do? ” 

“We can carry the news to them that the 
Boys in Blue are crossing the line and will be 


In the Lone Star Patrol 143 

here in a very few hours, and we can help to 
hold otf those rascally Greasers until the soldiers 
come, that’s what! ” cried Shorts boastfully. 
“ Lead the way. We can dodge bullets as well 
as you can.” 

Silently Win stalked ahead, the rest follow- 
ing close behind, chattering like magpies. It 
seemed fully a mile that they went twisting 
through narrow passages and high-vaulted 
chambers and rock-strewn caverns. Finally Win 
stopped and held up his hand for silence, then 
motioned them to come forward cautiously. A 
moment later they stood with stars glittering 
above them in an inky-blue sky. 

One at a time now,” counseled Win in an 
excited whisper. I’ll lead off. Give me about 
thirty paces, and then one follow. That black 
patch over yon is what we’re heading for, in 
case — in case anything goes wrong. If they 
fire on us after we’re all started, break and 
run for it. Or come back if it’s closer.” 

<< We’re headed for the corral,” Tex reminded 
him significantly. Go ahead; I’ll be the last.” 

Brave Tex,” teased the girl. 

None of that, Kate,” warned Win. The 


144 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

last man away has the shortest chance. I off. ’ ^ 

He slipped noiselessly over the ledge and 
merged into the shadows of the bushes below. 
At a dozen paces he was almost a part of the 
dark. 

You’re next, Kate,” reminded Tex. 

“ Next to last,” she corrected him stubbornly. 

You’re one of the Scouts, now,” he ordered 
sternly. You v/ill please obey commands. 
Start! ” She started. 

One after the other the Scouts gingerly 
climbed over the edge of the ledge, for all the 
world like so many mud turtles slipping from 
a stranded log. Tex saw Sis reach the huge 
boulder that marked the beginning of the level 
ground, and he too prepared to slip silently 
away from his sheltered position. But as he 
crouched and let one leg dangle over the rim, 
feeling for firm footing below, he stopped as if 
turned to stone. 

A pebble rolled down over the face of the 
cliff above him and struck him on the out- 
spread fingers of his hand. Sudden realization 
told him the meaning of that loosened pebble. 
The Mexicans were scaling the rocky wall ! 


In the Lone Star Patrol 145 

They too were headed for the corral, from whose 
shelter they could carry the ranchhouse in an 
unexpected attack, or pick off the defenders one 
by one at close range. For an instant Tex 
could only cling there, trembling with dismay 
and fear. And then, as quickly as it came, his 
fright left him. A plan — a risky one, but not 
impossible — popped into his head, suggested by 
that falling bit of rock. 

A glance to right and left told him that there 
were two breaks in the sheer wall behind him, 
the one a scant dozen feet away, at his right; 
the other, a rugged outline against the stars, was 
fully fifty feet to his left. At first look it 
seemed almost climb-proof, but there must be 
foot-holds in those jagged rocks, and Boy Scout 
wits would find them. His body hugging both 
ground and cliff, Tex wormed himself toward 
it, hardly daring to breath. He reached the 
break in the ledge that marked the upward 
trail — a trail never meant for human feet, nor 
used by them. 

Tex almost gave up hope as he peered 
anxiously upward. It looked hopeless. Tex 
looked back along his ledge in indecision, but 


146 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

the sight that met his eyes took away the last 
traces of hesitation. Gingerly picking their way 
down the far path, visible against the velvety 
sky, were at least a dozen men, while above 
others were crowding into view. He must act 
at once or all was lost. 

He swung out of sight behind a huge fallen 
rock that marked the first stage of his ascent, 
then inch by inch, painfully, barely averting 
more than one disastrous fall, or risking one 
rather than betray his presence by allowing a 
loosened stone to go clattering below, he won 
his way up ten feet, twenty, thirty, fifty. Here 
he paused, but only long enough to cast one 
agonized glance below. Time was everything 
now. He must not lose a second, for once 
the enemy had reached the ledge and began to 
clamber down the easy ascent from there to 
level ground, his opportunity would be lost. 

They’ll rally there! ” declared Tex half 
aloud, hoping, praying that his guess was right. 
Everything depended on that. The next twenty 
feet was easy, but from there to the natural 
landing that surmounted the cliff above that first 
ledge, life or death itself hung on the security 


In the Lone Star Patrol 147 

of rocky projections no larger tkan kis kand, 
and not kalf as strong. Tke top was almost 
witkin reack ; a kuge clump of stony eartk 
obstructed tke way to tke kand-kold of a wind- 
and-storm-blasted sprig of mountain pine. Tex 
felt kimself slipping. All tkougkt of caution 
lost, ke clutcked at kis crumbling support; it 
began to slide out bodily from under kim. He 
renewed kis exkansted muscles for a last des- 
perate leap. To miss meant kurtling tkrougk 
tke air in tke wake of stones and eartk already 
rumbling down tke clift. He jumped. 

Tke tiny pine tree bent to tke ground as kis 
weigkt pulled taut on tke kands tkat had grasped 
its slender trunk. Eoots began to tear from tke 
skallow soil, but tke second ^s security was 
enougk. Tex drew kimself to safety. 

Below kim ke keard tke crask of great stones 
bouncing down tke face of tke cliff and careening 
tkrougk tke brusk below tke ledge. 

‘‘I win!” ke cried aloud. ‘‘I win!” and 
ke ran along tke edge, tugging strenuously at 
suck rocks as seemed loose, exclaiming witk 
satisfaction as ke keard tke crask of tkeir 
descent — and a sound tkat pleased kim more; 


148 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

liigli-pitcliecl voices, raised in consternation. JTex 
raised his own exultingly. 

<< IVe got you trapped! he yelled, trusting 
there would be at least one who could under- 
stand him. The first one who shows his head 
gets his skull crushed. And IVe got lead 
besides,” and he emptied his automatic toward 
the dark line that showed the outside of the 
ledge. And here goes a dornick for good 
luck,” he added to himself as he pushed over 
a rock as big as himself. 

I’d sure have been in an awful fix if I’d 
got here before they were all down — or if 
another gang should come snooping along,” with 
an afterthought. Otherwise I’m safe till day- 
light. And in the meanwhile, I guess Win and 
the Sconits can pretty nearly figure out what 
has happened.” A yell from the direction of 
the corral told him that his friends were at 
least guessing. With all his might he shouted 
in reply: 

‘ ‘ I’m — safe — and — sound. Mexicans — on 
the — ledge. — I’m — a hundred — feet — above 
— and heaving domicks — at — them. ” 

A genuine Boy Scout yell came back by way 


In the Lone Star Patrol 149 

of reply, succeeded by a scattering volley from 
the corral that loosened rock splinters a dozen 
feet above the ledge. 

For two hours Tex kept up his artificial land- 
slides, encouraged by the excited voices of the 
men below. Every little bit he had to dodge 
back as a rifle bullet zinged past, but as those 
below could not see him, the aim was not very 
accurate. No more firing was heard from the 
corral, but Tex felt sure that the Mexicans were 
certain of a warm reception if they risked the' 
avalanche from above in a rush for the open. 
He kept an alert eye on the trail at his right, 
but apparently the Mexicans thought better of 
risking the climb. 

And then, through the stillness, Tex Clark 
heard a most welcome sound. In the buildings 
looming dark beside the ranchhouse a rooster 
crowed for the dawning. As his lusty voice still 
echoed lonesomely, another sound came, faintly 
carried by the fresh morning wind. At first Tex 
doubted his senses, but again it came, lilting, 
flutelike — the mellow tones of a bugle. And 
there was no question but that that bugle was 
blown by one of the troopers of Uncle Sam. 


CHAPTEE XII 


A GKAND SCHEME 

As Tex tossed his hat in the air and let out 
his lungs in a rousing yell of triumph, he was 
not prepared for the next act in his little drama. 
He heard a clatter far below him, and peered 
over the edge of the cliff to see his former 
captives scrambling madly down the slope and 
tearing wildly through the scrub timber that 
fringed the ridge. Another minute and they were 
dashing pellmell to the southwest, where a 
heavily wooded slope gave some promise of an 
exit from the narrow valley — as well as pre- 
venting cavalry pursuit. Tex emptied his auto- 
matic into the air to add a little speed to their 
flight. 

Then he made his way down to level ground 
by the route the Mexicans had chosen some hours 
before. His fellow Scouts rushed out from the 
corral to meet him and then bore him in triumph 
to the ranchhouse. The soldiers had already 
come up, a full company under Captain Allen. 

150 


In the Lone Star Patrol 151 

The captain eyed Jeff and Sis sternly a moment, 
then said: 

‘‘ I thought I told you two to get back to 
Chichua at onceJ’ 

We had orders from our superior officer, 
Captain, to report at Texana. You wouldnT 
have us disobey orders, would you? answered 
Sis, mischievously. 

The captain ^s eyes twinkled in spite of him 
as he returned briskly: 

When orders conflict, ask for further 
instructions.’^ 

‘‘We did,” chuckled Jeff. “ Patrol Leader 
Clark ordered us out for scouting duty, and so 
we came here to ask you if it was all right.” 

There was a laugh from the soldier hoys at 
this sally, and the captain had nothing further 
to say. Instead he busied himself with the safe- 
guarding of the ranch. In the meantime the 
company cook, assisted by a coal black ranch 
hand Win called “ Aunt Lina,” in spite of his 
trousers, began to prepare an open-air breakfast. 

The Scouts were nearly famished — not that 
any of the rest lacked good appetites — and they 
did full justice to the ample meal of flapjacks. 


152 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

fried potatoes, hot biscuits and black coffee that 
was offered unsparingly. The captain had 
gulped his food and strode up and down in 
impatience at the more leisurely meal of his 
men. Finally he stopped short in his walk. 

‘‘ All right, men. Five minutes to finish and 
be ready to mount. Sergeant, pick sixteen men 
to stay at the ranch till we return. The rest of 
us will see if we can catch up to the main band 
of Mexicans and give ’em a little taste of 
discipline. Boots and saddles, boys — pick your 
teeth on the way.” 

The troopers were quickly mounted and their 
horses stood waiting the command to spur for- 
ward. But the captain did not give the word. 
Instead he half turned in his saddle, listening 
intently. At last he spoke, in relief. 

‘‘ It’s only one,” he said briefly. Probably 
some rancher bringing news of attack farther up 
the canyon.” 

A moment later the boys heard the quick beat 
of a horse’s hoofs, and an instant later a cloud 
of dust swept into the midst of the waiting 
troopers. The center of the cloud was a cow- 
boy on a broncho. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


153 


Howdy, folks,’’ lie called cheerfully as he 
pulled in his mount and looked curiously about. 
“ Didn’t projec’ to run into no meetin’ like this. 
What’s the rumpus? ” 

Greasers jumped the ranch, Bill,” answered 
a tall, gray-haired man who walked with a limp 
and now came from the ranchhouse veranda. 
‘‘ Captain Allen, this is Bill Squiers — he’s got 
the ranch ten miles west o’ mine.” 

Howdy, Cap,’^ said Squiers nonchalantly. 
‘‘ Jumped your ranch, eh, Brandon? What’s 
the idee of the ridin’ academy rehearsal? 
Thought ye hoys was busy watchful waitin’ on 
t’other side the line.” 

<< We’re just about through waiting, Bill,” 
said Uncle Ed Brandon. A gang of bandits 
under Villa crossed the line and shot up Colum- 
bus in New Mexico. We’ve crossed into Mexico 
up there to help Carranza corral the whole shoot- 
ing match. In the meanwhile, the boys along the 
Texas line are — ’ ’ 

Just paying a friendly call. Bill. But what 
was your hurry as you came in? Or was you 
just—” 

' Wal, now, since you recollect me of it, I 


154 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

was in a kind of a hurry. In fact, I was sort 
of running away from a accident. Yep — a 
accident. Me and a Greaser run into each other 
and he drawed first. Better at drawing than 
he was at shooting, lucky for me.’’ 

Only see one? ” interrupted Captain Allen, 
evidently exasperated by Squiers’ slow drawl. 

Wal, Cap’n, now that I’m reminded of it, 
there was some more of ’em — mebbe forty 
odd or fifty, not countin’ the two that streaked 
oft to the north. That’s how I happened to get 
run into — a trying to figger out who the bossy 
actin’ one was that was cuttin’ loose from the 
bunch. ’ ’ 

Who’d he look like? ” snapped the captain. 
‘‘Land o’ love, Cap’n, search me! But I’m 
dead sure he was the wheel horse of the outfit. 
That sure was the most unaccommodatingest 
Greaser what run into me — ’ ’ 

But the Captain turned from the drawling 
cowboy in disgust. “ Give him a fresh mount,” 
he ordered the sergeant, then, “ Can you lead 
us to where you saw the gang? ” 

“I can’t rightly say as to that, Cap’n, but I 
reckon Uncle Ed can tell you where Split Gulch 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


155 


is. A bee stung me on tbe liip as I was riding 
off jaunty like, and I got a notion be left bis 
stinger behind. I bate to give up tbe pleasure 
of ridin’ with you-all, but I’m getting kind of 
stiff in my spur leg.” 

Grinning to tbe last, and joking until loss 
of blood made bim too weak to speak, Squiers 
allowed bimself to be helped from bis saddle 
and laid out on a camp cot for examination. 

Splintered thigh bone,” was tbe verdict of 
tbe company emergency doctor. Bad — mighty 
bad. I’ll have to probe for tbe bullet.” 

Bad? ” came a faint voice. Say, Doc, 
you just ought to see tbe other fellow,” and be 
fainted dead away. 

Tbe boys had stood about, astonished at tbe 
splendid nerve of tbe man. Then Sis turned 
to Captain Allen. You’ll need us with you, 
won’t you. Captain? ” 

Tbe captain grunted. It isn’t safe to leave 
you behind. You’ll be trying to capture Mexico 
City if I don’t keep an eye on you. Got plenty 
of ponies in tbe corral, Mr. Brandon? ” 

‘‘ Plenty.” 

'' Good. You boys have got ten minutes to 


156 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

saddle ap and make the break in the timber 
where the trail cuts through. Git! All right, 
men; we’re on our way.” He clucked to his 
horse, and the troopers swept out of the ranch- 
house yard in an orderly, compact mass. The 
Hoy Scouts lost no time in admiration, however, 
but broke for the corral on a dead run. Tex 
dashed otf with the rest, but he had not taken 
a dozen steps before a firm hand grasped his 
shoulder and brought him to a halt. He turned 
wrathily on his heel to confront Win. 

Come with me! ” 

What’s upl ” demanded Tex, scenting mys- 
tery in the other’s eager manner. 

Up is the word,” laughed Win. Come 
back here and I’ll show you something that’ll 
make your eyes pop out of your head.” 

Tex followed obediently, the rest of the Scouts 
not noticing that they had lost their leader. 
Win led the way past the ranchhouse, past a 
small corral for the domestic stock, past a store- 
house, a shed for machinery and a roofed-over 
feeding yard for the calves. Just beyond was 
a long, narrow, low shed-like affair, its wide 
doors secured with a ponderous padlock. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


157 


Win did not bother to open the lock; he had 
no key. Instead he walked over to a certain 
board, gave it a quick tug, and there was a 
two-foot opening. 

“Wait here,’’ he conunanded, and disappeared 
into the shadowy depths of the shed. A second 
or two later he poked a light steel chisel-bar 
through the opening. “Here; take this and 
pry o:ff the lock. We’ve got to have the door 
open.” 

‘ ^ But your uncle — ’ ’ 

“ He’s gone with the captain. He’s only half 
a man, he says, as long as he’s on his feet, but 
anybody’ll tell you he’s as good as two men 
in the saddle. Hustle — before somebody comes 
along and stops us.” 

Tex hustled to some efect, and in very short 
order he pried oif the hasp and threw open the 
sliding doors. 

“ Why — why, what’s this? ” he exclaimed as 
the bright sunlight streaked through the dust- 
laden air and revealed a curious affair of wheels 
and yellow waterproofed canvas and wires and 
rods. “It’s the queerest contraption I ever 

n 


saw. 


158 . The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Hull/’ grunted Win, pleased at Tex’s 
bewilderment. That’s Uncle Mel’s aeroplane 
— the one I told you about, that he pretty near 
broke his neck in.” 

“ But you said it was wrecked.” 

‘ ‘ I say lots of things ; I thought so, and Uncle 
Mel 'Sure thought so at the time. But I’ve been 
sneakin’ through that loose board about every 
day since I got here, and she’s just as proud 
and fit as she was the day she left the factory. 
Wires had snapped and stays bent, and the 
engine was clogged where she’d buried her nose 
in the mud, but I had good tools and plenty of 
supplies. I’ve never dared risk trying the 
engine, but she’s loaded and primed. Suppose 
you give that crank a spin and see if she 
responds.” 

Win jumped into the seat, snapped switches, 
manipulated levers and then said : ‘ ‘ Let her 

fly.” 

Tex gave the crank a vigorous twist. Nothing 
happened. He gave it a half dozen turns — the 
air was filled with smoke and ear-splitting explo- 
sions. When they died down. Win, grinning his 
broadest, jumped from his seat and grabbed Tex 


In the Lone Star Patrol 159 

entliusiastically by tbe band. Help me mn 
her out in the open. If you^re game, we’re in 
for the biggest lark of our lives — and we’ll 
show Uncle Ed and Captain Allen some real 
scouting. ’ ’ 

What do you — Say, you don’t mean you’re 
going up in this thing! ” 

What else do I mean? ” 

But — -but, it’s as flimsy as tissue paper.” 

‘‘ You never saw an aeroplane before, did you, 
Tex? You wouldn’t, down in Chichua. That’s 
the identical sort of thing they’re using over in 
Europe to ride high over the air-bombs. It’s 
built to carry two. Got the nerve to go 
with me? ” 

‘‘ But can you handle it? ” 

I sure can. I’ve studied it all out. Anyway, 
help me roll her out into the open. If you don’t 
want to go along I can go it alone. Only — only 
I didn’t want you to miss the sport.” 

They pushed and pulled the aeroplane out on 
the level plot of ground in front of the shed, 
Win watching his companion’s face closely for 
any sign, Tex soberly turning over in his 
mind his misgivings and his great desire to go. 


160 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Win tinkered with the wires and braces a bit to 
give Tex^ time to think, but finally he turned to 
the Scout. 

Well? ’’ 

‘‘I’d sure like to go with you, Win — ” 

“ Do it. Why, pshaw, if you went with the 
rest you’d be running the risk every minute of 
being dropped by a shot from the bush. Here, 
all you chance is a broken neck, and you’ve at 
least got the excitement of falling. Moreover, 
and that’s the real argument, we’re working for 
Uncle Sam. We’re going to locate those bandits. 

"'e can ^ave lives by doing it. I don’t want 
t6 over-persuade you if you’re not sure, but hop 
in anyhow. ’ ’ 

Without another word Tex hopped in. “ Good 
boy! ” exclaimed Win, highly gratified. “ Buckle 
that strap around you.” He stepped out and 
started the engine. The explosions came faster, 
quieter, they dulled into a steady hum. Win 
pulled a lever, another ; there was a terrific lurch, 
a bumping, rolling, lurching rush along the 
ground, and then, so suddenly that Tex felt his 
stomach almost part company with him, the -two 
bicycle wheels beneath them lifted clear and Tex 


In the Lone Star Patrol 161 

saw the earth sinking away from him in a dizzy 
blur. 

‘‘ Shut your eyes for a minute,’’ yelled Win 
above the rush of the wind in Tex’s ears, and 
when we’re up above, and on a level keel, you 
won’t mind it at all.” 

But Tex did not shut his eyes; the singing of 
the blood through his veins told him that he 
did not mind it as it was. Without feeling the 
slightest fear, he looked below. A hundred feet 
under them the gray roof of the ranchhouse 
slipped past, and the next instant they were 
over the corral. That too drifted behind. Ahead 
was the narrowing stretch of valley, and a half 
mile away a little knot of horsemen. 

‘‘ There they are! ” he yelled to Win. Win 
nodded vigorously, and warped his planes at a 
slant that brought a gasp from Tex. 

Lean in when we turn,” counseled Win. 
‘ ‘ Now we ’ll slow down as we pass over the expe- 
dition. Don’t be scared; I’m going to shut off 
the engine so they can hear us.” 

Silently, save for the snapping of strained 
canvas and taut wires, the aeroplane swooped 
downward over the khaki-clad troopers, who 


162 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

by this time were aware of the presence of the 
man-bird, and were craning their nocks to 
identify the occupants. 

Win leaned over perilously far. Cupping his 
hands about his mouth, he shouted: 

‘‘I say — -Captain! Wedl find your bandits 
for you. Just keep us in sight. JVatch for our 
red banner. Wedl hang it out when yve find 
them. ’ ^ 

Win had to start up his engine again and 
circle about once more in order to finish his 
explanations. As he finished, and once more the 
engines sputtered, Tex saw a wildly waving hand 
that he knew belonged to Uncle Ed; he was glad 
that the engine drowned the shouted words, for 
they sounded suspiciously like an order to come 
down. 

“ You s’pose we’d better go back and find 
out what your uncle wanted? ” he asked in pre- 
tended concern. 

“ When we go back it’ll be to tell them we’ve 
found the enemy. Just now we’re not under 
Uncle Ed’s control.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


THE AEBOPLAISTE SCOUTS 

I donT wonder that you wanted to try 
running your uncle’s flyer that day he left the 
coast clear,” remarked Tex after a few minutes 
had seen the captain’s men dwindle into somber- 
colored specks and then disappear. ‘‘I’d like 
to take a whirl at the wheel myself. How fast 
are we going, anyway? Must he over fifteen 
miles an hour.” 

‘ ‘ Forty, ’ ’ said Win shortly, without turning his 
head. 

“You are up in the air,” laughed Tex. 
“ That’s express train time.” 

“We can heat any express that ever rode the 
rails,” shouted Win hoastingly. “But I’m going 
to slow down now; we got to keep a close watch 
for the Mexicans. The field glasses are in that 
holster in front of you. Clap ’em to your eyes 
and see to it that you don’t miss as much as a 
coyote or a prairie dog. They can’t have got 
more than ten miles heyond here hy this time, 

163 


164 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

so if we don^t overliaul them soon I’ll circle 
about till weVe covered the whole country 
between. Hold tight; I’m going up above rifle 
shot! ” 

They shot almost straight up and then, on a 
level keel once more, continued their onward 
flight. For perhaps twenty minutes they hummed 
along, but no horsemen did the field glasses 
reveal to the watchful Tex. At last he turned 
to Win with a regretful, Either we’ve missed 
’em, or else they turned off. Hadn’t we better 
circle back? ” 

Win obediently veered the machine in a wide 
spiral, coming down a little closer. They may 
have split up,” he suggested, and are hunting 
shelter in twos and threes.” 

Well, if that’s the case,” Tex answered with 
barely concealed triumph, maybe we’d better 
take a look at that couple off to our right — 
between that bunch of scrub timber and that 
creek. ’ ’ 

Win shot the aeroplane upward at a steep 
slant, at the same time altering their course in 
the direction indicated. The Scout Leader uttered 
an exclamation of disappointment. They’ve 


In the Lone Star Patrol 165 

disappeared. Eight under us is where they 
were.’’ 

Maybe they saw us and turned back. I’ll 
cut across that clump of bush. That looks like 
the most likely place to hide.’^ 

The patch of timber, looking sparse and 
dwarfish seen from above, was crossed and 
recrossed, but no hiding Mexicans were sighted. 

‘‘ There’s no room for a cave down there,” 
decided Win, and there isn’t a tree big enough 
to hide a handful let alone a horse. It looks as 
if they’d just naturally sunk into the ground.” 

Theyh’e there, all right, and our soldier boys 
back yonder ’ll soon smoke them out. That is, 
if you’re sure you saw them in the first place.” 

I certainly did. That is, I saw two horses. 
The one was being led, but it looked as if there 
was a man on it at that — might have been just 
a pack, of course.” 

We’ll take a chance. I’ll speed back to 
the captain, and I’ll let you off so you can guide 
the men back here. Then I’ll chase ahead as 
fast as I can to make sure they don’t get away. 
Watch our course now.” 

The engine buzzed like an angry bee; the wind 


166 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

whipped their faces and tugged at their clothes. 
The planes creaked and groaned with the strain. 
The speed was terrific, dizzying, if one looked 
below at backward slipping trees and hills and 
creeks. Tex had all he conld do to hold on, 
and he soon gave np hope of being able to keep 
his sense of direction. A sudden downward 
swoop warned him that the end of the fearful 
flight was in sight. He risked a look below. 
There was the wide-spread column of the 
cavalry, galloping steadily toward them. 

A level spot appeared directly imder the 
descending aeroplane. Win shot for it, a bump, 
a succession of wrenching jolts, then a dead stop. 

Jump out quick, commanded Win. IVe 
got to get up in the air before they come up to 
us — Uncle Ed’s peculiar about being fearful 
firm. Got your directions fixed? We came 
straight northeast. It must be twenty miles. 
I’ll keep high, and scout back this way as far 
as I dare, so you can’t go wrong on finding 
the spot. I’m off — look out! ” 

None too soon, for the troopers were almost 
within hailing distance. As Captain Allen rode 
up, Tex rehearsed a speech that would soften 


In the Lone Star Patrol 167 

the soldier anger, but aside from a quiet greet- 
ing the captain make no remark. 

I have to report that we have located two of 
the enemy, sir, and with your permission Vll 
lead you to them.’’ 

Up behind me,” ordered the captain. Tell 
me your story.” 

So, as they rode along double on Captain 
Allen’s fine bay, Tex told of their discovery. 
The captain made no comment, not even when 
Tex told of the disappearance of the pursued 
pair. When the young Scout had finished, how- 
ever, the captain remarked confidently. 

We’ll find ’em for you.’^ Eising in his stir- 
rups he turned about and called: A little 

faster, men. Clark reports two of the enemy.” 

Tex swelled up with pride at that. It was 
the first time any man had called him Clark ” 
— it had a professional sound, a one-man-to- 
another ring to it. They rode briskly along, 
leather creaking, the comfortable outdoors 
sounds of good horses and vigorous men. It 
gave one a grown-up, worth-while feeling to be 
with them. Mile after mile fell behind them, 
and still Tex led the way, confident in his judg- 


168 The Boy Scouts of the 'Air 

ment because those he led did not question it. 
Once the aeroplane darted back into sight, and 
then disappeared into the direction they were 
going. 

Twenty miles, even on a level prairie, is no 
nursery game, and men and horses were begin- 
ning to droop when at last Tex, spying a familiar 
looking clump of bush above which soared a tiny 
black speck he knew to be Win, gave the order 
to halt. 

Better call down your friend,’^ advised the 
captain. 

Trusting that Win was following their move- 
ments through the field glasses, Tex whipped 
off his cap and signaled a descent. He kept 
up his wild gestures for fully five minutes before 
it was apparent that the height of the aeroplane 
was lessening. It was another five minutes 
before Win stepped out of his seat onto the level 
prairie and came hobbling toward the group. 

Howdy, he said with a grin that was half 
embarrassment, rubbing his muscles and bending 
his joints cramped by the long, strapped-in 
flight. 

‘‘ What kind of a wild goose chase is this, 


In the Lone Star Patrol 169 

youngster? demanded Uncle Ed, striding for- 
ward painfully himself and laying a heavy hand 
on his nephew ^s shoulder. 

No goose, Uncle Ed,^’ returned Win stoutly. 

ThaUs the ^ Golden Vulture,’ yonder, and she’s 
sure located the game. Now you dig him out.” 

See them? ” asked the captain. 

‘‘ Saw them go in — Tex did — and we didn’t 
see them come out.” 

‘‘ That’s good enough for us,” agreed 4he 
captain. ‘‘ Sergeant, take ten men and scour 
through the copse. McConnell, cut around to 
the northwest with thirty and guard the mouth 
of that gulch. The rest of us will he responsible 
for this side and the south. Quick work now; 
dusk will be on us in half an hour. ’ ’ 

The men quickly scattered to their appointed 
stations, and shortly there was a tremendous 
beating about in the brush as the sergeant and 
his men investigated every clump of weeds and 
thicket of mesquite. Win remained where he 
was, his legs still too cramped for extensive 
investigation, hut finally he too wandered over 
in the direction of the nearest clump of trees. 
But he had barely passed the first tree trunk. 


170 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

when he turned ahmptly and came sprinting 
back to where the captain had halted his horse. 

Some scout, I am! exclaimed Win. 
‘ ‘ Found them first shot — ’ ^ 

The captain was off his horse and striding 
along ahead of Win before the boy could finish 
his sentence. Half a dozen of the men hastened 
up to them as soon as they caught the drift of 
Win^s announcement. Win darted ahead as they 
came to the fringe of bushes and came to a 
dramatic stop at the spot where he had made 
the discovery. 

‘ ‘ Behold the captives I ’ ^ he declaimed 

importantly. 

And there they were; a ragged, stupid-looking, 
undersized man, evidently of the peon class, who 
stared sullenly from under heavy brows, and 
close beside him another, covered with a blanket 
and apparently sound asleep. As the American 
approached, the sleeper did not awake, and the 
waiting man made no attempt to resist capture, 
though an ugly-looking revolver hung in a holster 
at his belt and a short, large-caliber rifle lay 
close to his hand. 

You sabe United States! demanded the 


In the Lone Star Patrol 171 

captain bniskly. The man nodded his head but 
said nothing, his eyes furtively searching the 
threatening faces circled about him. 

Who are youl 

‘‘ Manuel Calles, senor. I am a sheep herder 
on the ranch of Francesco Eaminez six miles 
to the west of here/’ 

A sheep herder — what are you doing with 
that gun? And how do you happen to be so 
far from home, and hiding here in the timber? ” 
‘ ‘ Me no hide, senor. Me — ’ ’ 

“ What were you doing on the Buena Vista 
Ranch this morning? ” interrupted the captain. 
A blank look was his only answer. No lying 
now. What were you two up to? Wake that 
other fellow up, some of you.” 

‘‘ No — no! ” exclaimed the Mexican, throw- 
ing a protecting arm across the prostrate figure 
but shrinking back as one of the soldiers poked 
him in the ribs with a rifle muzzle. 

That’s my poor broth’,” he said simply; 
but something in his tone made an impression 
on the captain. 

“ What’s the matter with him? Sick? ” 

The Mexican swallowed hard, and then sud- 


172 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

denly his hands went to his eyes, and he hid 
his face low while great, gulping sobs shook his 
shoulders. 

“ No sick! ’’ he moaned at last. No sick — 
dead! ’’ And he threw himself across the pros- 
trate body in a grief that somehow touched the 
hearts of the men, soldiers though they were. 
‘‘ Yesterday, last night,’’ gasped the man 
between sobs, to me comes the message: 
‘ Come; it is your broth’ that is sick and must 
be brought to home.’ I go and I come to where 
it is my broth’ awaits for me. It is in the 
army of that bandit, Torreon Lopez, my poor 
reckless broth’ is one of them. He is with them. 
It is at the place they call the Split Gulch. I 
see him. I speak, but he nothing will answer 
me. His face it is sad, and it is as a great 
sickness sits in his eyes. Already the death 
damp stands on his forehead. He speaks not 
but turns to me those sad-sick eyes. 

‘‘ That wicked man, that leader Lopez, says 
to him a word. One villain strikes the horse of 
my broth’. He comes to me, and I, that love 
my poor Tomaso, I hold out to him my arms. 
That leader Lopez, shouts commands to me. I 


In the Lone Star Patrol 173 

must to go. My broth’ ride beside to me. It 
is twenty short paces. I look. My poor broth’, 
it is his arms that are tied to his sides, his 
wrists bound together behind him with cords 
that cut deep the straining flesh. I make exclaim. 
Then — crash! Many of the rifles. My poor 
broth ’ — ” the speaker’s voice rose in a shriek 
— ‘ ‘ he fall on the neck of his pony — dead ! ’ ’ 
There was no doubting such a story. In spite 
of the man’s stupidity, he had risen out of him- 
self in the telling. Win and Tex, who had 
stepped close behind the captain, were strongly 
impressed. It was as if the tragedy had been 
enacted before their very eyes. 

“He’s telling the truth. Captain,” said Win. 
“ We thought that led pony looked queer. That 
was what it was; the body was thrown across 
the saddle. We’ve had our trouble for nothing.” 

“I’m not so sure,” said the captain doubt- 
fully, and he questioned the Mexican further. 
The man seemed sunk deep in his grief, and the 
captain gained little from his mumbled replies. 

In the meanwhile the soldiers had led the two 
sorry looking nags from the heavy chaparral in 
which they had been safely hidden from view 


174 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

from above. The Mexican refused to leave bis 
dead, so, after the captain bad satisfied bimself 
of tbe poor fellow ^s barmlessness, be called all 
tbe troop together and issued a few brisk orders 
that put them all in tbeir saddles, ready to be 
otf at once. 

Charter’s Mills is due north of here, and 
there ’s a little settlement this side the river 
where we can get chuck. We’d best try to make 
it in the next two hours. Then we can get back to 
Vegas by rail, and from there it’s only an hour’s 
trip to the ranch. What say, Mr. Brandon I ” 

You’re the leader of this expedition. How 
about these two fly-up-the-creeks I ” 

<< We’re going back in the aeroplane,” insisted 
Win firmly, expecting opposition. 

You’re going back by foot,” returned his 
uncle grimly. And as for that break-neck 
contraption there — leave it where the bandits 
can find it. It’ll put more of them out of mis- 
chief than we did.” 

But Win did not give in so easily. But, 
Uncle Ed,” he objected, we’d be lots less 
bother going back this way, and we could get 
to the ranch hours before the rest of you. Sup- 


In the Lone Star Patrol 175 

pose, for instance, tliat the bandits had just 
circled around and were attacking again while 
we are away. It might mean all their lives if 
yre could bring help six hours before you could 
get there. And as for safety — there's neither 
bugs nor snakes nor Greasers in the air — 
There's tumbles," said his uncle shortly. 

'' Eight," Win agreed. ‘‘ Just one week ago 
Pete Sinnell's horse stepped in a gopher hole, 
and broke his own leg and Pete's arm. Yes, 
there's tumbles." 

At the general laugh that went up. Win and 
Tex knew that they would be allowed to return 
by the air route. But no formal consent was 
given. Uncle Ed merely grunted. The captain 
threw back his head and laughed heartily. Win 
and Tex, followed by the envious looks of their 
fellow Scouts, hurried otf to where, a hundred 
yards away, the aeroplane rested lightly on the 
prairie grass. 

Good luck, you ‘ Boy Scouts of the Air,' " 
yelled someone after them. Then there was the 
dull beat of horses' hoofs on sun-baked turf, and 
the two young aviators turned to see the troop 
galloping briskly off into the fast-gathering dusk. 


176 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

The boys had spoken bravely of the lonesome 
trip close np under the stars, but there was a 
nervous shiver in the gesture with which Tex 
called his companion from gazing after their 
friends. 

Let’s be off,” he said. Soberly they 
approached the aeroplane. 

‘‘We’d better give her the once-over. This 
night flying isn’t what it’s cracked up to be. 
You test all the wires and braces while I start 
up the engine and try out the searchlight. It 
may come in mighty handy. 

Tex, wrench in hand, overhauled hastily all 
visible supporting nuts and bolts, while Win 
spun the motor, tuned the dynamo that gave cur- 
rent to the searchlight, and then — 

“ All shipshape, Tex? ” he called. 

“ From stem to stem,” answered Tex as he 
threw his wrench in the tool box and slammed 
down the lid. 

‘ ‘ Hop in then, and we ’ll be off — ” 

“Pardon, senors — •” came a hard voice out 
of the dusk, almost at their elbows. “ I must 
trouble you to change your plans. Not a move 
if you know what’s good for you! ” 


CHAPTER XIV 


ALONE ON THE PRAHIIE 

Win and Tex turned to look into the muzzle 
of a revolver. It was a business-like looking 
gun, with a hole at the end of the barrel that 
seemed to look one right in the eye. And the 
man behind was just as business-like. The boys 
had to look twice before they could be sure 
it was the same being they had found only a 
few minutes before in the stupid peon who was 
carrying home the body of his murdered brother. 
There was nothing stupid about the present Mex- 
ican. His voice had the ring of expecting 
obedience and being used to quick response. 
There was the look of a bom leader in the set 
of his chin, the way he held his head. It did 
not take him long to express his wishes to 
the boys. 

You,^’ he said to Tex with an insolence that 
made the blood of that young Scout boil with 
rage, vamose. And, you — ’’ he thundered at 
Win, “ make ready to carry me where I shall 
177 


178 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

command. You have just said all was in ship- 
shape. Lose no time! ’’ 

He stepped into the seat vacated by Tex, as 
casually as he might seat himself at the dinner 
table, not even pausing to strap himself in. ‘‘I 
wait,’’ he reminded impatiently, at the same time 
shoving the muzzle of his revolver against Win’s 
ribs, without for an instant relaxing his watch 
of the sullen Tex. 

There was nothing else to do. Win threw in 
the gears, the propeller whirled faster and faster 
as he speeded up the engines. A lurch and then, 
within ten feet, the aeroplane skimmed lightly 
above the prairie and into the velvety night. 
Tex was alone on the prairie, his only company 
a dead man — and a tiny automatic. Tex let his 
hand rest upon the grip for the comfort its 
presence gave him. Then he resolutely faced 
the situation. 

It was fully thirty miles back to Buena Vista 
Eanch, that he knew. The route was north- 
easterly, and the general landmarks were famil- 
iar to him. It was a long hike, but he felt sure 
that, given plenty of time, no roving bands of 
Mexicans interfering, he could reasonably hope 


In the Lone Star Patrol 179 

to reach safety in that direction. On the other 
hand, there was Charter's Mills, a two hours' 
ride to the north. Four hours of hard trudging 
would undoubtedly see him through. 

But Tex knew Charter's Mills; there were a 
scant dozen houses there. He must bring help 
for Win, and the surest place was the ranch. 
Thirty miles ; he could make it by morning. 
There was the chance that Win might succeed in 
outwitting his captor; that the gasoline might 
give out before many miles. Help must get to 
him as soon as possible. Moreover, it was toward 
the northeast that Tex had heard the faint 
purring of the motor; the aeroplane might itself 
be headed for the ranch. 

Tex hastened back into the thicket where lay 
the body of that brother " who had won free- 
dom for the man the young Scout was now con- 
vinced was one of the bandits if not the leader 
himself. It had been a clever scheme, and the 
man was a wonderful actor. They had all been 
taken in by his perfectly counterfeited grief. 
Tex wasted little time in vain regrets. A rifle 
lay beside the body, which still was covered 
with a blanket. He fumbled inside for a cart- 


180 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

ridge belt, found it, and quickly slipped it off 
and buckled it about bis own waist. Then he 
hurried over to where the two weather-beaten 
ponies had been tethered, but disappointment 
met him. The picket ropes had been cut; no 
horses were in sight. Tex consoled himself for 
this loss with the recollection of their plainly 
marked ribs and sunken flanks. 

Eesolutely he straightened up, and with a 
glance at stars and landscape, strode off into the 
pathless dark. 

That was the longest night of Tex Clark’s 
young life. .And those were the longest miles 
that he had ever walked. Before, a mile had 
been only so many steps; now it was a succes- 
sion of alarms, of frightened heart beats, of unde- 
cided halts to consult the stars, of fruitless peer- 
ing into the dark for a landmark that seemed 
unaccountably to have shifted to the wrong side. 
The howling of coyotes sounded weird and 
menacing; huge, flapping things were frightened 
out of patches of timber into which he blundered. 
A great shaggy form lumbered off, growling as 
it went. Once, along toward the dawn, the 
bewildered Boy Scout almost ran smack into a 


In the Lone Star Patrol 181 

smouldering camp fire about which lay a dozen 
blanket-wrapped figures. He ran nearly a mile 
break-neck speed after that, coming to a dead 
halt after he realized that he had wandered hope- 
lessly from the route he had laid out for himself. 

But faint daylight came at last, over a dark, 
heavily wooded ridge that barred his further 
progress with a cliff of forbidding steepness. He 
was so tired — and sleepy — that his heart sank 
as he eyed the hopeless prospect. He had been 
going his best gait for eight hours — he must 
have covered at least twenty-five miles, but he 
doubted whether he was half that distance 
nearer the ranch than he had been, for, tired 
and hungry as he was, his knowledge of wood- 
craft did not stand very high with him. He sat 
down; and the next minute he was asleep. 

He might have slept there for hours, but of a 
sudden he sat bolt upright, startled into wake- 
fulness by a sound that still rang in his ears 
after the sleep had been rubbed from his eyes. 
It was the unmistakable purr of a gasoline 
motor, and it came from above. But there would 
be no engine on top of that ridge; it must come 
from the sky above. It must be Win's aeroplane. 


182 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Tex had not waited while coming to this con- 
clusion. His eyes swept the sky in all directions, 
but there was not even a cloud visible. The 
steady throb continued; the sound must come 
from beyond the ridge. It was up to him to scale 
that pile of tumbled rocks. There was no time 
now to follow along the slope to where an 
easier incline led to the summit. 

He searched in vain for some break, a crevasse 
that might at least give him a start, but there 
was none. However, the first fifty feet, up to 
the cliif proper, was merely hard work; that 
was the first job, and Tex went right at it. As 
he passed a low tree he spied a limb with a 
crook next to where it joined the trunk. His 
knife made short work of cutting him this double- 
purposed staff. It soon proved its value. 

At the base of the clitf he found himself con- 
fronting a ten-foot wall as smooth as concrete. 
But along the top of this grew hardy pines, 
dozens of them, each no larger around than his 
wrist but stubbornly rooted in the scanty soil. 
With hardly a regret he discarded his heavy rifle. 
Up went his staff, and the crook end was hooked 
about one of the largest of the pines. It 


In the Lone Star Patrol 183 

stretched his arm to make it, but a quick jump 
gave him a hold with the other hand. It was 
an easy matter after that to climb up hand over 
hand to the narrow ledge. 

From there he followed around the base of 
an out-hanging boulder as big as a house, and 
was able to scramble up the sharp angle where 
it cornered into the clift proper. He was half- 
way up. The rest of the way was a repetition 
of the earlier stages, only that the more 
exhausted he became, the harder did the climb 
appear. But he now had the doubtful consola- 
tion of knowing that it was as easy to go ahead 
as to go back. He could no longer hear the 
motor. Save for the squawk of a buzzard in the 
valley behind him, all was still. The blood 
pounded in his ears and the sweat blinded his 
eyes, but he could not give up. 

And so, after a final bit that taxed endurance 
and nerve to the utmost, he stood upon free 
ground, at a height that gave him view of miles 
of country. Still, strain his eyes as he might, 
he could see no soaring black speck against the 
blue that might be Win and the aeroplane. Dis- 
appointed more than he would admit to himself, 


184 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

lie lowered liis eyes to the prairie spread beneath 
him. The first glance, and his disappointment 
was forgotten. 

‘ ‘ Is it possible ! ’ ’ he gasped aloud. ‘ ‘ Can it 
be that IVe come all the way back to Buena 
yista Eanch? 

There, still half-hidden by the morning mist, 
loomed the dark timbers of the corral, while 
beyond, barely visible, was the ranchhouse itself. 
Tex’s view of the place had been brief, but there 
was no mistaking that peculiar dip of the land 
just beyond the corral. It was surely Buena 
yista. 

If that was the case, then this was the ridge 
he and his fellow Scouts had climbed barely 
thirty-six hours before. Somewhere along this 
ridge was the entrance to the cave — to Win’s 
red cross! 

It must have been farther along, for the slope 
had not been so abrupt where they had climbed; 
but it could not be much more than a mile, for 
there was the ranch. The thought gave new 
strength to his legs. 

But he had never seen the cave entrance by 
daylight, and more than once he was sure he 


In the Lone Star Patrol 185 

had passed the place. In the present state of 
his nerves he did not feel equal to the task of 
reaching the valley by way of the cliff; the 
Mexicans had been days finding the path that 
had permitted their perilous descent. However, 
as he followed the ridge he saw that the ranch- 
house loomed nearer and nearer, and that what 
had looked like a mile at first sight, must have 
been nearer five. 

So it was that after more than an hour’s hike, 
Tex blundered bang into the spot he hunted. It 
came through tripping over a stout stick across 
the opening between two rocks. As he picked 
himself up, he wondered vaguely why a stick 
should he there when there was no tree within 
rods. But there was no time for idle specula- 
tion and he hurried on, carrying the stick with 
him. He walked perhaps twenty steps, when a 
thought bobbed up from the back of his brain. 

“It’s cut,” he said aloud before the full mean- 
ing of his sentence had come home to him. Then 
— “ Why, it’s one of the sticks we cut down there 
by the side of the lake ! ’ ’ 

At that he turned squarely about. For a sec- 
ond he could hardly believe his eyes. The scene 


186 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

that only an instant before had seemed unfamil- 
iar, now looked like an old landmark. There, 
barely fifty feet away, was the ragged hole in 
the face of the cliff that gave entrance to the 
cave. He lost no time in covering that fifty 
feet, but paused before dropping into the black 
hole. Curiously he examined the thin shell of 
rock that had formed the door to the cave. It 
was cunningly fashioned, from a single rough- 
edged slab that fitted exactly into the doorway. 
But moss had crusted it, and rain and weather 
had bitten deep. Shorts had fallen heavily 
against it, and the jagged hole, with cracks run- 
ning to all four comers, told the story. 

Tex reached into a comer of Ms kit without 
taking it from Ms shoulders, and brought out a 
match safe and a half length of candle. Putting 
both into his coat pocket, he stepped onto the 
narrow landing inside the stone doorway. But 
as he put down Ms foot, he felt the edge crumble 
under him, and he jumped back just in time to 
avoid a nasty fall. There was a great crash 
inside, as if the whole hillside had caved in. 

Tex waited a while, but there was no further 
sound, so he concluded that it would be safe to 


In the Lone Star Patrol 187 

investigate. He cut a short length from his bit 
of candle and stuck it just inside the opening. 
As the match flared up, he had a good view of 
the tumbled mass below, and without further 
hesitation he made ready to jump. The last of 
the fall had been loose earth, so that he would 
have a soft landing place. So, without bother- 
ing to light the candle, he dropped to his knees 
and catching hold of the break in the door, 
lowered himself into the cave. His arms 
stretched taut, he hung there an instant, then 
dropped. The clatter of the rocks and earth that 
followed him, woke the hollow echoes of the dark 
cavern for a brief moment, then all was still as 
the tomb. 

And then, so unexpectedly that the heart of 
poor Tex raced madly, out of the close-pressing 
darkness came a snarl that had in it little of 
the human: 

Stand back — or youfll go with him! 

Tex leaped aside, but not soon enough. A 
stunning blow caught him on the back of the 
head. He felt himself sinking, down, down, hun- 
dreds of feet it seemed. Then all was black. 
But only for an instant. Flashes of red beat 


188 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

upon his eyeballs — it was the pain. He had 
the sensation of being dragged, of being picked 
np bodily, and then, with a shriek that sounded 
like that of a woman ringing in his ears, he was 
conscious of rushing through space, falling, 
falling. Again all was black. 


CHAPTER XV 


A NEW KIND OF WIRELESS 

Did you ever dream that you had fallen from 
a dizzy height, had gone tumbling through end- 
less space, finally to light — on the floor beside 
your bed? 

It was much like that with Tex. Most of his 
fancy was reality, until his fall ended abruptly 
after a scant dozen feet. But it was a long 
time before Tex knew that his fall had ended. 
Then, first he was conscious of a dull rumbling 
in his ears as of the rush of mighty waters and 
thousands of grinding wheels; then a terrible 
pain, as if the wheels were grinding into him. 
Then a blinding flash of light — that was when 
he opened his eyes. But the light did not dis- 
appear as he gazed bewildered at it. Instead 
it dwindled and finally resolved itself into a 
flickering candle flame, held by a hand that was 
none too steady, before a face whose terrified 
blue eyes stared past him into the inky depths 
below. It was Kate Brandon. 

189 


190 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Tex tried to call, but bis husky whisper died 
in his throat. Vainly he tried to move his lips, 
but they were paralyzed with pain. It was just 
as well they were. A voice rang out in the 
stillness : 

Save yourself the trouble, senorita. Where 
he has fallen there will be no coming back.’’ A 
cry of agony and fear burst from the girl, as if 
the man had hurt her. He went on, speaking 
rapidly: But you shall play me no tricks. 

While I go out I am going to rope you tight 
and plenty, my friend. ’ ’ 

There was a short silence, broken only by the 
sound of hard breathing. Then — ‘‘You little 
wildcat! I’ll teach you! ” The sounds from 
above told of a struggle that was hard but 
brief; then came the shuffle of retreating foot- 
steps and a jeering laugh that told all too plainly 
who was the victor. A long silence ensued. Fin- 
ally Tex managed to whisper: 

“ Kate! ” There was no response. Again 
he called, a little louder: “ Oh, Kate! ” 

Still there was no answer from above, but 
he was aware of a curious noise, a cross between 
a shuffle and a thump, that seemed to be drawing 


In the Lone Star Patrol 191 

nearer to the edge of the chasm. Finally it 
stopped. 

‘‘ Kate I he called once more. 

Out of the darkness came a terrified whisper 
in reply: 

Who is it? 

IFs Tex — Tex Clark. I’m stuck on a 
ledge about ten feet down. Have you a rope 
there? ” 

I have,” came the answer, but it’s tied 
around my wrists and ankles. Wait till I see if 
I can dislocate my neck far enough to bite 
through. Are you badly hurt? ” 

I can’t tell till I get to where I can feel 
myself all over. I don’t dare move an inch 
here.” She made no answer. After awhile he 
called up : ‘ ‘ Kate. ’ ’ 

Umm-m-m,” came the answer. 

‘‘ What you doing? ” 

‘ Wou be busy keeping still; I’m busy biting.” 

He took the advice. After what seemed at 
least an hour of waiting he heard a relieved sigh 
from above. ‘Won ’ll owe me a new set of 
teeth. That’s the toughest rope I ever gnawed. 
When I get it to you, slip it around you under 


192 


TJie Boy Scouts of the Air 

yoTir slionlders do you feel it? 

“ Farther to your right/’ called Tex. ‘‘ Keep 
talking and I’ll tell you when your voice is 
directly above me.” 

‘‘ All right,” came the laughing reply. And 
you keep talking and I’ll see if I can drop it 
right in your mouth — careful! You nearly 
pulled me overboard . . . . . Grot it tied? ” 

‘‘ All right. Hoist ahead. I’ll help all I can.” 
Between the two of them, she tugging, and Tex 
clutching at every unevenness in the rocky wall, 
they made the lift, and he soon stood beside her. 
But they were shaky legs that held him up, and 
he felt an overwhelming desire to sit down. He 
was about to tell Kate his desire when suddenly 
his knees beat him to it. Fortunately, she was 
between him and the gulf or the result would 
have been disastrous. Before long he was able 
to sit up again, and after several attempts he 
managed to rise to his feet and stay there. 

‘‘ No bones broken, I guess. I expect we’d 
better be making our get-away. Where’s your 
jailor gone? ” 

‘‘ I wish I knew. You don’t know who he is 
of course? Well, it’s Pierre Lopez — ” 


In the Lone Star Patrol 193 

You mean Torreon Lopez,’’ suggested Tex, 
his mind instantly connecting the name with the 
one used by that one whose story had taken them 
all in there in the little patch of woods. 

‘‘ No — this is Pierre. Torreon is his brother. 
They’re both insurrectos — both leaders of a 
gang of bandits. Pierre is the worst of the 
two, but Torreon is twice as crafty. Just now 
Pierre is a little bit the worse for wear. He 
says his horse rolled on him, and, from the 
bandages, it looks as if the pony did a good job.” 

What! ” exclaimed Tex in sudden discovery. 

Then it’s our bandit — the Lone Stars ^ — the 
one we let escape. He had Win’s chart. That’s 
how he found the cave.” 

That’s how he found me, too. I walked right 
into him, just inside the lower entrance, when 1 
came back early this morning to see if I could 
do anything to cover up the hole your friend 
Shorts made up above. But where are the rest 
of the Scouts, and Dad and Captain Allen? And 
where’s Win? ” 

<< Safe — all but Win, and I hope he is, too. 
But we can’t waste any time in getting to safety. 
Which way did Lopez go? Up or down? ” 


194 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

^ ‘ Up, I think. He .was on the way when we 
captured you. He’s expecting a messenger or 
something. They must be planning an attack.” 

Tex made no answer. They started off in the 
direction of the lower entrance, he limping along 
painfully behind, holding to her hand as she 
slowly led the way through the darkness, for 
they dared not show a light. But his steps 
grew slower and slower. Finally he stopped alto- 
gether and pulled loose his hand. 

You can find the way out a heap sight easier 
without me,” he said determinedly. Lopez 
won’t suspect that I’m loose in the cave, and 
chances are I can either get him, or at least find 
out what’s up. If they’re going to attack, I can 
warn, and the bandits’ll get a reception warmer 
than they enjoy. You get to the ranch as fast 
as you can — ” then, sensing that she would 
refuse to leave him — “I may need help, and 
any delay may make all the difference in the 
world. The first Scout law is obedience — and 
you are an honorary member! ” 

Good-bye,” she called, a dozen feet away, 
her voice trailing off into the distance. ‘ ‘ I ’ll be 
back in time.” 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


195 


Tex retraced his steps. By following the wall 
he was able to go ahead safely and swiftly. As 
long as his steps led upward he knew he must 
be on the right track. He had no way of know- 
ing how far he was from the outlet, and once 
there, he had no assurance that he would be able 
to win out. These things must be left to the 
future, and the future solved both difficulties 
and a third one much more easily than he had 
expected. 

Of a sudden the wall seemed to leave his hand 
and he knew he was turning a comer. He 
remembered such a turn about a hundred feet 
from the top, so he turned to the right, expecting 
to encounter the other wall. A dozen feet out, 
he stumbled against a boulder that had evidently 
fallen from roof or wall; he stooped over to feel 
his way around it. As he bent low, a hiss that 
seemed to come from between his feet sent his 
hair straight up, so it seemed. Snakes! was his 
first thought. But there was no further sound, 
and he regained his courage. 

Once more he encountered the boulder, and 
once more, impelled by some intuition, he stooped 
low. No hiss, this time, but a low mumbling. 


196 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

It was someone talking. In a flash the explana- 
tion came to Tex. He had read of whispering 
galleries; he and the Scouts had discovered a 
natural one in a canyon not far from Chichua. 
Here was another. The two men were undoubt- 
edly at or near the cave-opening, and that might 
be all of a hundred feet away. Their lightest 
whisper was caught up by the walls, echoed and 
reechoed, and concentrated at this spot. 

But Tex did not stop long enough to reason it 
all out. Instead, he bent his ear low to the 
ground, hunting the best station. It was like 
focussing a picture on the ground glass of a 
camera: One minute it was all a blur; the next, 
every detail was distinct. 

There were two voices. One was raised in 
remonstrance, the other pleaded. Tex’s self- 
congratulation died while it was being thought, 
for, alas, the whole conversation was carried on 
in Spanish, and the young Scout’s knowledge of 
that language was extremely limited. He knew 

senor ” and manana ” and ‘‘ sabe,” and 
that was about all. But many Yankee words 
have crept into the border tongue, and before 
he had listened long Tex heard a familiar cow- 


In the Lone Star Patrol 197 

boy term that put him up on bis toes. It was 
like standing on the crowded street of a big 
city and watching for people you know. 

For a long while Tex crouched there, listening 
to the excited jabberings, but the familiar words 
came singly and they brought no intelligence to 
the boy. And then, shrill and unmistakable came 
a sentence: 

^ ‘ Gringoes — San Marino — soldados — ’ ’ and 
then, after a pause, a word the same in many 
languages — dollars! 

The young Boy Scout had keen wits, and his 
fears supplied the missing words. Living on the 
border had taught him what to expect when a 
Mexican bandit mentioned dollars and the 
name of an American town in the same breath 
— ^it meant a raid. San Marino was on the 
American side of the Eio Grande, only a few 
miles back from that dividing stream. There 
were many Mexicans there — refugees, for the 
most part — but the presence of an encampment 
of Uncle Sam’s troops made up for the fact 
that the Americans were outnumbered two to 
one. San Marino was the center of a rich graz- 
ing country; there were big stores there, and 


198 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

tlie bank, tbe only one in thirty miles. - There 
was an old army post half a mile west of the 
towm, now used as a depot for military -supplies, 
as Captain All^n had told in Tex’s hearing. It 
would certainly prove a rich prize. 

Tex waited to hear no more. Even the fact 
that he was sure he recognized in the one voice 
that of the Mexican who had forced Win to carry 
him off, did not make him hesitate. Win would 
have to take his chance alone. Many lives 
depended on the speedy carrying of the news 
that had just been wirelessed ” down through 
the winding passages. 

More than one bruise was the portion of the 
hand that Tex trailed along the wall as he hur- 
ried heedlessly through endless galleries and 
caverns, seeking the lower entrance. He rounded 
bends till he was dizzy, falling over rocks and 
rising breathless to hasten on to fresh tumbles 
and bumps. But his nerves were at high ten- 
sion; the dark was playing tricks with his eyes. 
So it was that when he bumped into an obstruc- 
tion that yielded before him for an instant, but 
the next clutched him about the middle, he yelled 
out in absolute terror. 


199 


In the Lone Star Patrol 

Oh — it^s Tex/’ came a voice in great relief. 
‘‘ You nearly scared me to death, Kate. 
Where are the reenforcements I ” 

'' Gone! ” exclaimed the girl, dismay in her 
voice. 

What do you mean? ” 

‘‘ The ranch ds deserted. Everything is in 
confusion, as if they left in a hurry. The horses 
are gone from the corral, everything movable 
from the house. Whether the Mexicans raided 
the place, or they just pulled up stakes and 
crossed the border, I don’t know. But they’re 
gone! 

Gone! ” repeated Tex in tones as anxious 
as her own. And I was depending on the 
horses to carry the news! ” 

What news? ” 

Out of here, first! Let’s waste no time. 
Hurry — we haven’t a second to spare! ” 

The two hurried along breathlessly, almost 
running where the passage was smooth. A last 
turn, and a blinding light struck their eyeballs 
that were smarting with the darkness. 

‘ ‘ At last ! ’ ’ cried Tex, plunging over the ledge 
and down through the boulder-littered slope. 


200 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Daylight and level ground! I was beginning 
to think I never would see either one of them 
again/’ 

They ran until they reached the corral. Here 
a pause was made in the vain hope that careful 
search might yield a mount overlooked in the 
hurry of the ranchers’ departure. At the far 
end was a rough sort of stable where the better 
stock was kept. As a last resort they hunted 
there, but not a hoof remained. 

I’m famished,” said Tex at last by way of 
giving up all hope. Do you suppose we can 
scrape up anything to eat at the house? ” 

I think so. What are you going to do 
next? ” 

‘‘ Eat,” announced Tex. ‘‘ That’s all there is 
left to do. How far is it to the nearest Amer- 
ican ranch? ” 

Nothing this side the Eio that I know of. 
We were the only ones who didn’t get out when 
Uncle Sam first stepped in after Villa made his 
raid at Columbus. It’s barely possible that the 
Williamses didn’t go, but they’re all of twenty 
miles from here, and if they weren’t there we’d 
have lost just that much time. Moreover, there’s 


In the Lone Star Patrol 201 

at least a thousand unfriendly Mexicans in 
between. That’s why Dad didn’t go back to Texas 
long ago, with us having to go so slow on account 
of mother. It was safest here.” 

“ Then San Marino is doomed,” was the 
gloomy rejoinder. “ The Mexicans will swoop 
down on them like a pack of wolves. And the 
town is alive with Greasers just itching to 
plunder the people who are feeding them. And 
a good fast pony would save them! ” 

They had come to the ranchhouse, entering 
through the kitchen door, which stood wide open. 
Tex at once made for the pantry, where a gen- 
erous supply of cold food stood about in disorder. 
“You might as well eat,” he reminded Kate, both 
hands and his mouth full. “ There’s nothing else 
to do.” 

“ Then there’s no hope left? ” 

“ Only one — and that’s too wild to put into 
words.” 

“I’m a fellow Scout,” she reminded. “ Let 
me know all the facts.” 

“ You didn’t see Win and me when we left 
the ranch, did you? ” She shook her head, not 
comprehending the drift of his question. “ Win 


202 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

and I were traveling in yonr nncle ’s aero- 
plane — ’ ’ 

You couldn^t. Uncle MePs biplane broke its 
own neck on its first trip and pretty near broke 
Uncle MePs in the bargain. It was like Humpty- 
Dumpty — all the king^s horses and all the 
king’s men, couldn’t — ” 

‘‘ But Win could. He sneaked into the shed 
day after day when you thought he was napping. 
He had the wreck all repaired, and the two of 
us got away in it. We located two of the bandits 
— one of them dead. And then, the live one — 
well, he — that is. Win agreed, for a big reward, 
to carry the man safe to his friends,” Tex fin- 
ished somewhat lamely. 

What do you mean? A reward, you say? ” 

Yes — his life and mine. If he’s got 
away — ” 

Tex paused, astonished, for Kate had darted 
from his side, after one wild tug at his arm. 

Tex! Tex! ” exclaimed the girl, almost 
screaming his name. “ This is no time for eat- 
ing — or sleeping! ” 

‘ ^ What in thunder — ’ ’ began Tex, breaking 
off abruptly to follow her through the doorway. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


203 


to come to a bewildered bait as she shouted over 
her shoulder: 

My dream that woke me up! It must have 
been real! 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE SAVING OF SAN MARINO 

Tex was not left long in doubt. After that first 
amazed halt he followed close at the heels of the 
excited girl, so that the two rounded the comer 
of the machine shed at almost the same instant. 
Kate’s cry of realized expectation was echoed 
by a shout from Tex that expressed both unbe- 
lief and triumph. He rubbed his eyes. 

‘‘ It’s the aeroplane,” he said wonderingly. 

‘‘ Of course,” answered Kate. It woke me 
up early this morning, but I thought it was only 
a dream — ” 

‘‘ Do you s’pose it’s Win — alone? ” inter- 
rupted Tex, at the same time catching the 
impetuous girl by the arm. Better let me go 
ahead and make sure.” 

But Kate would listen to no such arrange- 
ment, so side by side they stealthily approached 
the shed before which lay the yellow- winged 
monster of the air. It was deserted, that was 
easily seen. The shed door was open perhaps 

204 


In the Lone Star Patrol 205 

a foot — friend or foe was concealed within. On 
tiptoe they approached the building from the 
rear. All was deathly still. They flattened their 
faces against cracks and tried to peer within, but 
the shed was dark as night save for a narrow 
streak of light that marked the doorway. And 
then, as they stood there straining eyes and 
ears for the slightest sign of occupancy, an 
agonizing sound broke the stillness. It was 
someone in distress, there could be no doubt of 
that, the odd moaning accompanied by a deep 
mumbling that must belong to a second person. 

“ The bandit! ’’ whispered Tex in trembling 
tones. ‘‘He’s holding Win prisoner. We’ve got 
to rescue him ! ’ ’ 

He drew his automatic, until then clutched 
in the holster, and walked cautiously but deter- 
minedly around the comer. “ Now! ” he 
directed Kate, who was at his very heels. “ Grab 
the handle here and pull the door wide open as 
I step inside. The light will blind him and give 
me the advantage. Ready? ” She nodded. 
“ Let her go! ” Then in the the same breath — 
‘ ‘ Up with your hands ! ’ ’ 

Silence — a long silence. And then a long, 


206 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

luxurious snore! There, curled up in a nest of 
horse blankets, lay Win Taylor, sound asleep. 

But his sleep did not last long. With a whoop 
of mingled relief and disgust, Tex was upon 
him, followed, if the truth must be told, by a girl 
who forgot the dignity of her sixteen years in 
one hilarious tussle. 

Here — you wild Indians!^’ remonstrated 
Win finally, unable to free himself from their 
clutches. It’s bad enough to wake up thinking 
scalping is next, but at least let me get my wind. 
Katherine Brandon, do you think social etiquette 
absolutely requires you to sit on my stomach? 
Or must I pull your hair to teach you better 
manners? ” 

It really ought not to be recorded that Kate 
reached over and pulled a certain prostrate 
boy’s nose before she beat a hasty retreat out- 
side the door. Win followed her, thoroughly 
awake, to trip over the extended foot of Tex. 
Mutual explanations followed. When Tex had 
finished his story of the overheard conversation 
and the threatened raid, Win was all attention. 

Without another word he stalked over to the 
aeroplane and began a careful inspection of all 


In the Lone Star Patrol 207 

parts. Apparently satisfied, lie turned to the 
two. Eeady to start! ’’ he questioned. 

Tex was about to answer an emphatic yes, 
when he thought of Kate, and turned to her in 
indecision. 

Don’t worry about me. If the old sky- 
scraper won’t carry triple, I’ll hide in the cave 
till one of you comes back for me.” 

She’ll carry you aU right, but — ” 

‘‘ Then what you waiting for! Where do I 
sit! ” 

‘‘ You’re a trump! ” roared both boys heartily, 
and Tex added: ‘‘ You’re no longer an honorary 
Boy Scout, Kate — ” he paused at her disap- 
pointed look — ‘‘you’re a real one!” 

But they were not to get off so easily. As 
Win finished giving the engine a last quick look- 
ing-over, he turned to the others with a groan 
of dismay. “ The gauge shows less than an 
inch of gasoline! ” 

“ How far will it carry us! ” gasped Tex. 

“ Maybe all the way — I don’t know. We’ve 
simply got to chance it, that’s all. You’ll have 
to watch the gauge, Kate — we’ll perch you right 
in front of it. .We’ll go as far as we dare and 


208 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

then hunt a soft landing place. I’m heading 
straight for the Bio Grande, and we’ll open her 
up to the last notch, so hold tight to your seats. 
We’re off! ” 

They weren’t, for the right lower plane 
scraped on a bush and the machine nearly top- 
pled, but Tex sprang out and shifted their direc- 
tion to clear. Once more the motor sputtered, 
the aeroplane skimmed along the ground and 
then, without a jolt, rose fair into the air. A 
shiver of excitement came from the passenger 
in the hind seat, but no one spoke. A hundred 
yards they rose, two hundred, and then, a stitf 
breeze at their backs, away they whirred into 
the north. 

Like it? ” queried Tex, turning his head 
and shouting above the snapping of the wind 
and the br-r-r-r of the motor. 

“ Umhuh! ” came from Kate, though her 
teeth chattered as she spoke. ‘‘It’s simply glor- 
ious — Oh!” as the motor missed fire for an 
anxious second, lurching sickeningly. 

“ Only a bug in the gasoline,” laughed Win. 
“ Wait till we have a real accident before you 
lose your nerve.” 


In the Lone Star Patrol 209 

Nerve nothing! 1^11 hang on as long as 
you do/^ 

After that they talked, in disjointed sentences, 
to be sure, for the wind whistled deafeningly 
between the planes and past wires and braces, 
and the motor throbbed a steady thunder. Mile 
after mile they covered at top speed. The wind 
gauge showed forty miles. We’re making all 
of fifty miles an hour. That wind behind us 
takes at least ten otf our gauge,” insisted Win. 

The wind was doing more than that; it was 
taking them off their course, so that every little 
while their pilot had to cut across the wind in 
order to hold the aeroplane due north. But 
even so, the miles were slipping fast behind them 
and almost any moment they could expect to 
glimpse the narrow ribbon of silver water that 
marked the boundary of the Lone Star State 
and the land of Uncle Sam. But they were 
destined not to see the Eio Grande from their 
lofty perch in the aeroplane. 

A sudden gust of wind from below rocked the 
aeroplane and pointed her nose upward. At the 
same instant the explosions of the motor stopped 
dead. They began again when Win once more 


210 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

had the machine on a level keel, but they all 
knew that they were near the end of their flight. 

Can’t be more than a pint of gas left,” 
remarked Win, so casually that the others did 
not realize the concern there was in his heart 
over this simple fact. We’d best make a land- 
ing and trust to luck and our feet to take us 
the rest of the way. Watch for a level spot away 

from any houses How’s that 

clearing just ahead? ’’ 

Neither Kate nor Tex made any answer. The 
course of the airship told that none was needed. 
Like some giant bird the aeroplane settled easily 
through the air and came to rest on a flower- 
covered meadow, not twenty feet from a dense 
growth of bushy trees. Win and Tex sprang 
out and tugged and hauled till the machine stood 
well in the cover of the rank growth of tangled 
vines that marked the beginning of the timber. 

Then, still without speaking, the three com- 
rades broke through the trees and bushes toward 
the north. From time to time, as they trudged 
along, Win and Tex glanced at each other and 
then at Kate, who walked between them. Finally 
she caught them at it. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 211 

‘‘ I know what you^re thinking,’’ she laughed 
merrily. You wish you hadn’t a girl along. 
Set your minds at rest; I can out- walk either 
one of you. Lfet’s move along a little faster if 
you can stand it.” 

And again Tex said: ‘‘ You’re a real Scout.” 

An hour’s hike saw them making better time 
through a country that was more broken but that 
led steadily down hill. It was clear that a water 
course was not far distant. They prayed that 
it might be the Rio Grande. One glance at the 
mile-wide expanse of sun-kissed waves that 
beckoned through the dense border growth of 
palmetto, told them that their hopes had been 
well founded. But a question arose. 

‘‘How are we going to cross? ” Clearly no 
one had given that a thought. 

“ We’ll have to take a chance at running 
across a boat or a friendly Mexican. Which 
way shall we turn!” asked Tex finally. 

“ San Marino must lie to the west. We’d 
better go upstream. Anyway,” Win added with 
a joke he was far from feeling, “ the stream 
gets narrower farther up, in case we have to 
swim for it.” 


212 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

There was no thought, however, of swimming; 
the Eio Grande at this point gave no encourage- 
ment to that idea. Instead they hurried along 
as best they could over the rough ground, hav- 
ing lost much time in circling about sloughs and 
inlets, and covering two miles to every one of 
real progress. The sun rose over their heads 
and began climbing down in front of their deter- 
mined faces. They grew weary with fatigue and 
weak from hunger. Win had not eaten since the 
night before. 

It was nearing four o^clock when ahead of 
them they saw a cluster of perhaps a dozen 
houses. Win was for skirting around the settle- 
ment, but Tex was growing desperate. Kate 
seconded his decision to enter the place boldly 
and demand food and if possible transportation 
to the other side of the river. They had barely 
passed the first house, when Win, a few feet in 
the rear, rushed up and caught Tex frantically 
by the arm. 

There! Didn’t I tell you? Listen.” 

Faint and far oft came the rise and fall of a 
bugle call. ‘‘ Mexicans! ” exclaimed Win. And 
this is a Villa district. Chances are they’re the 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


213 


very same troops weVe come to warn against.” 

‘ ‘ Bosh ! ’ ’ answered Tex, pointing a lean finger 
down the street. Does that flag look like the 
Villa standard? Do those khaki suits look like 
the rags and tatters of bandit uniforms? 
Whoopee! It’s a corporal’s squad of Uncle 
Sammy’s best.” 

‘‘ A corporal’s squad with a bugle! ” snorted 
Win, but he set out after the sprinting Tex, Kate 
following the two at a more leisurely gait. WTien 
she caught up to the two, by this time surrounded 
by the astonished soldiers, the story had been 
told. It was no corporal’s squad, however, for 
there were a dozen of the lean, sun-tanned horse- 
men and a sergeant was in command. He 
wrinkled his brows at Tex’s story. 

It means hard riding,” he said at last. 

The telegraph wires are all down — which 
clinches your story — and the nearest post is 
Kilmarnock, eight miles from here and more 
than that from San Marino. Just what to do 
with you youngsters I don’t know — ” 

<< We’re going along,” asserted Win. 

But you’ve no mounts; and the girl — 
However, jump up behind, you three. Our outfit ’s 


214 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

less than two miles up the creek. There’s sixty 
of ns — infantry, except for the sconts here. 
WeVe got a barge that’ll carry ns over; and 
yon — ” he indicated Kate, who had climbed np 
behind a red-bearded trooper of nndonbted Irish 
birth — ^ ‘ will have to drop otf at the first 
town.” 

Honld tight, mavonrneen, or ye’ll drop off 
afore that,” roared Eed-beard. 

In a very short space of time camp was 
reached. While the three were being generously 
filled with camp fare, the first batch of soldiers 
was being ferried across to the American side. 
An hour later, Kate, Win and Tex stepped off 
the rude gang plank, thankful to be ‘‘ home 
again.” After that it was sober walking, but 
the three lost neither time nor energy in repining 
over that fact. 

‘ ‘ Any idea what time the raid was planned 
for? ” asked the young lieutenant who was now 
in charge. 

Not the slightest. I don’t even know abso- 
lutely that it was planned for to-night. I just 
felt it. How long before we can get there? ” 

I don’t know that we can at all. Depends on 


In the Lone Star Patrol 215 

orders. We reacli Centrax in another hour, and 
we can wire Fort Stillings from there — if that 
wire isn’t cut, too. But the railroad will take 
us the rest of the way.” 

Centrax was reached just before dusk, after 
considerably more than an hour of hard hiking. 
A frontier town hotel graced the main street, 
and there Kate was deposited, much against her 
will. The hoys came out from their task of 
getting rid of her,” as she expressed it, to 
find the soldiers surrounded by an eager group 
of boys and men. The lieutenant was missing, 
but after a little he emerged from the railway 
station, which was just across the street. His 
jaw stuck out at a determined angle. 

Looks bad,” he exclaimed. “ Wires are out 
— cut, it looks like. No way of reaching Fort 
Stillings, and our little band here won’t be worth 
much even if we can get to San Marino, and 
even that’s doubtful.” 

‘‘ What’s the trouble. Cap!” inquired a lanky 
cowpuncher, pushing through the surrounding 
ring of curious men. 

Greasers are raiding San Marino. These 
youngsters here brought us the word. Less than 


216 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

a hundred soldiers at San Marino — mostly 
rookies at that. Station agent says he’ll give 
me an engine and all the freight cars I want, 
but I’ve got only sixty men.” 

Ye’ve got another sixty, Cap,” with a sweep 
of his arm that included the crowd about him. 
Eh, boys? ” 

Bring on the box cars! ” came the enthusi- 
astic reply. 

In a short half hour a puffing switch engine 
stood coupled up to four box cars, and in half 
a minute thereafter, a streak of fiery smoke was 
lighting up the sky to the west. Old Limping 
Henry,” as the wheezy locomotive was soon nick- 
named, was speeding away in the direction of 
San Marino. A dozen miles away lay the threat- 
ened town, and the crazy old engine, for all its 
fuss, made a long, hard job of the trip. 

Another mile,” announced the lieutenant as 
he climbed through the end-doors into the for- 
ward car where Tex and Win had found room, 
and we’re — r ” He did not finish. 

Boom! A terrific explosion rocked the train 
and it seemed as if they would leave the rails 
and go crashing down the embankment. 


In. the Lone Star Patrol 217 

A bomb! cried one of tbe cowboys in a 
panic. 

''No,'’ answered tbe lieutenant calmly. '' That 
was the powder magazine at San Marino. It 
looks as if we were too late." 

As it turned out, they were just in time. With 
a grinding of brakes and a last desperate snort 
from Limping Henry, the train came to a stand- 
still. The men scrambled out. The sky was 
red with the glare of burning buildings, the 
streets of San Marino were as light as day. 
Eifle shots rang out, and at the instant Tex 
struck the ground, a thunderous volley belched 
out from a row of buildings that ran east and 
west with the bank for a center. A yell of 
defiance shrilled out, and across the wide street 
streamed a ragged line of men who fired as they 
ran. There might have been five hundred; there 
might have been double that number. Tex did 
not stop to decide. As in a dream he heard the 
quick orders of the lieutenant. He saw the blaze 
of another volley leap the length of the street 
as the Americans met the Mexican rush. He 
watched the line waver, and then surge forward 
unchecked, and wondered how he could be so 


218 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

calm — and how the lieutenant could be so 
deliberate. Then — 

Up and at them, men. Make every bullet 
count! ’’ 

The border yell, that inspires fear wherever 
it is heard, rang out on the smoke-laden air. 
Across the narrow space raced the lieutenant’s 
hundred-odd, a pitiful handful it seemed against 
that mass in the street. But the border asks no 
favor of odds. A second yell rang out, and from 
store and house, from bank and post office dashed 
another line of men, with rifles spitting flame 
and death. 

The Mexicans were taken by surprise. Their 
leader fell. A shout of hatred — and fear — 
went up. Then in the face of the murderous fire 
of the lieutenant’s band, the panic-stricken 
bandits made a dash for their horses. 

It was all over in an instant. The hoofbeats 
of terrified horses and the cries of even more 
terrified men died away across the sand prairie. 
San Marino was saved. 

Two exhausted boys, one with a bloody hand 
where a bullet had splintered the stock of his 
rifle, and the other with a bruised forehead from 


In the Lone Star Patrol 219 

a stumble over a borse trough, shook hands in 
vigorous congratulation. 

‘‘You’re a real Scout, Win! ” said the one 
with the lump above his eye. 

“ You’re another! ” with a thump on the back 
from the uninjured hand. “ The Lone Stars 
sure lived up to their name this day! ” 

“ The Lone Stars? ” 

“You sure won’t refuse to take me in after 
this, will you, Tex? ” 

“ Ask me! Here’s a hand for the newest and 
hest Scout in the whole organization! ” 


CHAPTER XVn 


A ONE-WHEELED AUTOMOBILE 

It was a good two hours later before Tex and 
Win met again to compare notes. There had 
been hard work for them both, as there was but 
one doctor in the place and that last charge had 
literally covered the ground with wounded. Sev- 
eral of the Americans had met serious mishap 
as well. Tex’s knowledge of first-aid came in 
handy, and even inexperienced Win bore a hand 
with those whose wounds were not serious. 

But finally the last bandage was in place, and 
the two boys, too wearied and sickened by the 
sight of bloodshed to think of food, met in front 
of the lone hotel. 

‘‘I’ve been hunting all over for you,” hailed 
Tex. “ The Limping Henry is going to make 
the return trip in about fifteen minutes; what 
do you say to jumping on at the last minute and 
stealing a ride back to Centrax! ” 

“ All right. But why wait till the last minute 
— and why steal a ride? ” 

220 


In the Lone Star Patrol 221 

‘‘ Aw — that fool doctor going around fixing 
up some kind of a something-or-other to present 
to us for saving the town. They make me tired. 
I^m going to hunt a dark spot.’’ 

Count me in — and do it now, because I see 
a bunch heading this way that looks like a delega- 
tion of leading citizens.” 

The two sneaked down toward the railroad 
track as stealthily as if they had been caught rob- 
bing a melon patch. A pile of ties just past the 
station hid them from view, and there they hud- 
dled until a prolonged and violent coughing and 
wheezing warned them that Limping Henry was 
about to endanger its existence by rattling its 
aged bones back to Centrax. As it bustled 
past, two dark forms separated themselves from 
the tie pile and made a dive for the ladder of the 
second and third box cars. A moment later they 
met on top, where they stretched themselves flat 
on their backs. Out of the smokestack belched 
fire and smoke and cinders, and the boys were 
alternately pelted and choked, but little did they 
mind. 

More than once, lulled by the swaying of the 
cars, did they nearly fall asleep, and when they 


222 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

at last reached Centrax, just short of midnight, 
they were more than ready for a comfortable bed^ 
But even that was to be denied them. When they 
arrived at the hotel where they had left Kate, 
before they could register the clerk came hurry- 
ing forward. 

‘‘You the two kids that brought in the girl 
from across the line — Miss Brandon? ’’ 

“ Yes,” said Win wonderingly. 

“ Said she wanted to be called the minute you 
came in,” and away he hurried. Evidently Kate 
had made herself pretty thoroughly understood. 

Hardly a minute later, before the clerk had 
returned, she came hurrying down the stairs, 
rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she came. 
“ Get there in time? ” she demanded. The boys 
nodded emphatically. “ Why didn’t you wait 
and come back with the rest? ” The boys only 
grinned sheepishly, but finally Win answered: 

“ They wanted to pin roses in our hair and 
turn over the keys of the city to us, so we beat it. 
We thought we’d better come back here and take 
care of you.” 

‘ ‘ Lot of taking care I need I And you ’d be 
some guardian. Besides, I’m going to Chichua in. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 223 

the morning — if Dad gets here in time for the 
ten o^clock train/ ^ 

‘‘ Have yon heard from him? ’’ cried both boys 
at once. 

Talked with him on the telephone. He^s at 
Chichna with Mother. That^s why the ranch 
was deserted. Captain Allen came back with 
Dad to Bnena Vista. Half of them went on 
ahead with the stock and the luggage, while 
Mother and the boys who had been wounded 
were in the second section traveling slow in the 
ranch wagon. That^s how they didnT miss me. 
Each thought I was with the other bunch. And 
I reached Dad by telephone just a few minutes 
after they discovered that I had been left behind. 
There’s a train in at nine o’clock in the morning. 
Dad’ll be in on that. I’m going to sleep till eight 
o ’clock — now that I had to be waked up to listen 
to you two foolish boys — so I guess you won’t 
have to stand guard much.” 

‘‘ Stand guard? ” yawned Win. ‘‘ Not so you 
could notice it. If this hotel bums down to-night 
you’ll find my charred bones in the morning, still 
wrapped in sleep. Goo — good nigh’ — ” and 
with a final yawn he staggered over to the desk. 


224 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Good nigM, Tex/’ said Kate, catching him in 
a healthy yawn as he was telling her of the 
fight at San Marino. Yon can tell me all about 
it in the morning. I know you’re both just dead 
tired.” And she went back up the stairs. 

Tex thereupon strolled over to where Win was 
engaged in a heated argument with the night 
clerk, a boy not much older than the two Scouts 
in years, but a grandfather in worldly wisdom. 

“ What you think of this lay-out, Tex? ” hailed 
Win impatiently. Not a bed left in the house ! ’ ’ 
That’s right,” said the clerk pleasantly. 

Full up.” 

‘‘ Don’t mind if we sleep on the floor? ” asked 
Tex just as pleasantly. If you turned us out 
we’d go to sleep on the way to the door. Have 
a heart and shake us down to a blanket apiece in 
some quiet comer.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, I can let you have bedding all right — ’ ’ 

“ Good! Hurry it along, will you? We’ll bunk 
in on the bench yonder.” 

The bedding was produced and the two boys, 
rolled in their blankets, stretched themselves, feet 
to feet, on the long bench that filled one entire 
side of the room. A gentle rumble from Win 


In the Lone Star Patrol 225 

inside of five minutes told that he had forgotten 
the ridges in the bench and the gleam of the 
lights, but Tex lay for a long while unable to go 
to sleep. Then, just as his eyelids were flicker- 
ing shut for the last time, the door banged open 
and another belated guest came shuffling in. 

By his querulous, high-pitched voice Tex recog- 
nized the engineer of the Limping Henry. 

’Lo, Bash,” he greeted the boy at the desk 
familiarly. 

How ’re ye. Lew? ” answered Bash,” with- 
out looking up from the paper-back novel in which 
he had become engrossed. After turning a page, 
‘ ‘ Where Ve ye been ! ’ ’ 

Big doings, Bash! ” in some excitement. 

Battle with the Greasers at San Marino. 
Looked pretty bad for a while, I tell you.” 

‘‘ Huh,” grunted Bash without interest. 

“ One of the prettiest fights I ever see,” went 
on Lew. ‘‘ Got there just as the hull outfit was 
tearing acrost the street — ’ ’ 

Uhuh,” mumbled Bash. 

Guns poppin’, men droppin’ in their tracks, 
horses screaming — ever hear a horse scream, 
Bash? ” 


226 The' Boy Scouts of the Air 

‘ ^ Hull ? — uliuh. Oh, yeh. ^ ’ 

Must ’a’ been six hundred, and a quarter that 
many whites. You could hear the women folks 
screechin’ and kids yellin’, but the Greasers 
yelled louder than the hull shootin’ match. And 
say. Bash — ” 

Say, Lew, can’t you see a feller’s reading! ” 
What’s the book. Bash? ” 

‘ Sime Kenton, the Border King.’ Talk 
about excitement! ” 

‘‘ I was. Bash. Ever hear about a place called 
the United States, son? Ever hear anybody call 
it your country? I’m telling you about history, 
boy — real genume excitement. Why, the lives 
of all those people up in San Marino was saved 
by two boys not a day older than you be. Sime 
Kenton! Say, Bash, some day when you wake up 
and find out you’ve been dead for some years — ” 

‘‘ What in thunder’s got into you. Lew? I 
ain’t a-bothering you any. Lemme be — and 
finish my book.” 

Lew shook his head. “ Wasted all my pow- 
der,” he grunted. ‘‘ So you don’t care to hear 
about history, eh? ” There was no answer. 

Not interested in how many was killed and 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


227 


wounded? Still no answer. I hear the boss 
has got a new boy he^s going to put in your place 
here,’^ he began again in the same sarcastic tone. 

What^s that? ’’ The book dropped with a 
bang. 

Thought that^d wake ye up, Bash,^^ grinned 
Lew. 

Just then the door slammed open once more. 
In came the owner of the hotel, Tom Gallo- 
way, a genial-faced fat man who pretended not 
to notice the hasty hiding of Sime Kenton 
underneath the desk. 

What’s the latest news from San Marino, 
Lew? ” he asked anxiously. Posse started 
yet? ” 

Just as I left. They potted Torrien Lopez 
all right, but his brother got away. Larry John- 
ston of the First National there posted a reward 
of five hundred for Pierre’s scalp — on or off. 
Guess I’ll have a try at it myself in the morning. 
We’ll never be through with these raids until 
he’s planted or jugged. Well, I’m going to hit 
the hay.” 

Lew went stumbling up stairs, followed shortly 
by Mr. Galloway. Bash fell asleep over his book. 


228 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Quiet settled over the office. But not for long. 
A tall, blanket-wrapped figure rose from the 
bench, stretched itself painfully, and then pro- 
ceeded to let the closed end of another blanket 
roll off onto the floor, at the same time giving 
several healthy jabs into the interior of the 
bundle. 

‘‘ Wake up, Win! came a guarded whisper. 

<< Ugh — wha’s a matter? Lemme ’lone.’^ And 
the figure settled back. 

‘ ‘ Win ! Come out of it — come, now. ’ ^ There 
was no response, but a moment later the voice 
of Win, raised in resentment, trailed through the 
office, out the door and down into the cool air 
of the courtyard of the hotel, propelled there, 
along with the boy’s body, by Tex. That was 
not all. A handful of dew-drenched grass, vigor- 
ously rubbed over a drowsy face, soon took all 
the sleep out of a new-fledged Boy Scout. 

Now look here, Tex Clark — ” 

‘‘ Just a minute. Win. Big doings on foot, 
old boy, or I wouldn’t have been so rough. I’ve 
news ^ and a hunch. Want to hear them? ” 

‘‘ Might as well now.^^ 

Walk along, then — work the sleep out of 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


229 


your upper story — and I’ll tell you about it.” 

They made their way along the deserted, dusty 
street. Then Tex spoke: 

‘‘ Pierre Lopez got away, you know — ” 

“ Did you wake me up to tell me that? Of 
course I know.” 

‘‘ The president of the bank at San Marino has 
offered a reward of five hundred dollars for his 
capture. ’ ’ 

He’s safe in Mexico by now.” 

He is in Mexico; sure. But I’m not so cer- 
tain about his being safe. We’re going to capture 
him!” 

Get out — too little sleep has softened your 
brain on the pillow side. Fat chance we two 
boys ’d have of going down into Mexico and bring- 
ing out of that snake’s nest an able-bodied all- 
around hard customer — a man neither one of 
us ever laid eyes on.” 

‘‘ You’re wrong. Win — on two counts. First 
of all, the man isn’t able-bodied, and secondly, 
I’ve seen him before. He’s the one that tried 
to throw me down into that pit in the mine.” 

‘ ‘ It was dark — ’ ’ 

And before that he was the man who dis- 


230 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

graced the Scouts eternally by escaping when 
Fritz and Sis fell asleep.’^ 

Not the one you Scouts captured! ’’ 

That very same slippery rascal. So, aside 
from that little reward, it’s up to me to clear the 
name of the Lone Stars. Are you game to go 
along? ” 

But, hang it all, Tex — where to? We can’t 
expect to get very far with any little game like 
that on the other side of the Rio. It’s not a case 
of cold feet with me; it’s a case of not seeing 
where we get off at — or on. ’ ’ 

‘‘I’ll show you soon enough. But first you 
chase on back to the hotel. Write a note to Kate, 
telling her we’re going to do a little scouting — 
don’t need particularly to say where — and will 
show up in Chichua in the next few days. Then 
you beat it down to the station; I’ll be waiting 
for you. Pronto, now.” 

The two boys separated. It was some twenty 
minutes later when they met again, on the 
dark platform of the little railroad station. Tex 
clutched Win exultantly by the arm. 

“ Say! ” he exclaimed, “ how far would ten 
gallons of gasoline run the Golden Vulture? ” 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


231 


Two hundred miles, about, if we had it.’’ 

I’ve got it! Just bought it of the agent- 
operator, who ’s gone to sleep again inside there. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Huh — fine ! ]^ot o ’ good it ’ll do you here ! ’ ’ 

‘‘It’s in two five-gallon cans, and the cans are 
on a wheelbarrow. The steering wheel of the 
barrow is set straight down a road that leads 
five miles to the bank of the Rio. And just one 
hundred yards down that bank is a flat-boat with 
two perfectly good oars hidden back in the bushes. 
How long would you say it would be before I was 
sleeping in the stern of that noble craft while you 
went through the motions of rowing down stream, 
eh? ” 

“ That depends on what’s your speed limit on 
the autobarrow. Hadn’t you better be cranking 
up? ” 

It was a queer procession that set out down the 
dark road. Win walked ahead, to make sure of 
the path, and Tex labored along behind, to the 
shrill accompaniment of the “ squeak-squawk, 
squeak-squawk ” of the loose-jointed old wheel- 
barrow. 

They covered five unbelievably long miles 
before a late moon showed them the waves of the 


232 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Eio Grande, and it was nearly a lialf-liour later 
before they found tbe boat and located the oars. 
The two cans of gasoline were lifted aboard and 
stowed at the stern; the wheelbarrow was laid, 
legs up, in the bow, and Tex stretched out on the 
rough bottom of the boat, almost under Win^s 
feet. As a consequence, the bow of the boat rode 
high over the waves, while the stem barely 
showed water-way. 

“We’re off,” said Win softly, as he pushed 
the unwieldy craft away from the clinging mud 
bank. There was no answer; Tex was already 
asleep. 


CHAPTEE XVIII 


THE GOLDEISr VULTURE AGAIN 

It was several hours later, and Win was now 
asleep, painful blisters on his hands and an ache 
across his shoulders that would make itself felt 
when once he was awake again. Tex bent over 
the oars, sweat streaming down his face. It 
seemed ages since Win had dashed a double hand- 
ful of the Eio Grande into his face and invited 
him to take his turn at the rowing. The old 
scow wallowed painfully along, with an exasperat- 
ing tendency to turn in a circle. Tex had long 
since lost track of the distance they had come; 
he was vainly hoping for sight of some landmark. 

‘‘It canT be much farther to where we were 
ferried across,’^ he growled to himself; “and 
after that it’s only a few miles to where we 
cached the Golden Vulture, I wonder if I dare 
wake up Win and — ’ ’ 

A groan sounded from the stern ; another, even 
more heartfelt. Win sat up, then sank back 
weakly. After a moment he called appealingly: 

233 


234 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Tex — donT ask me to push those axe-hewed 
oars again, will you! IVe got blisters on my 
hands with roots running ’way to my backbone. ’ ’ 
How about me! I rowed six hours to your 
three. ’Bout time somebody was spelling me off, 
I reckon.” 

Spell yourself off; let her drift. Where are 
we, anyway! ” 

‘ ‘ Haven ’t the slightest idea. I ’m watching for 
the place we crossed over — ” 

“ What’s the matter with you! We passed 
that while I was still on deck. What you want 
to look for is a big island covered with tall trees 
and with a blasted southern oak on the north — ’ ’ 
Thunderation ! ” yelled Tex. Why didn’t 
you tell me! We passed th^t island half an hour 
ago. Now we’ve wasted miles.” 

‘‘ About a hundred yards, I should say, at the 
rate you’ve been rowing since I woke up. Turn 
her around and let’s row back.” 

‘‘Not much. I wouldn’t row this scow ten 
inches against the current. We’ll strike for shore 
and hoof it back — and you’re first on the 
wheelbarrow! ” 

They reached a shelving bank that gave them 


In the Lone Star Patrol 235 

an easy landing place, and in a very few minutes, 
the squeak of the barrow stilled for the moment 
with a drink of gasoline, they started off, the cans 
piled with a thick covering of willows to save the 
gas. Tex walked ahead to find or make a trail, 
while poor Win stumbled on behind, begging Tex 
to relieve him, threatening to abandon the lug- 
gage, and every hundred yards sitting discon- 
solately on the handles for a breathing spell. 

Unfortunately, they could not cut across coun- 
try to where the Golden Vulture was hidden, but 
would have to follow the rough, winding trail of 
the river bank until Win’s landmark came into 
view. It was a long while since the boys had 
eaten and there was no telling when they might 
dare take time to skirmish up a meal. 

Finally, the river bent sharply to the south, and 
there in the shallow bay lay an island that Win 
hailed with a subdued shout of delight. 

‘‘ Come back here,” he called, and bend your 
back over these handles while I lead this expedi- 
tion — straight south.” 

He set a stiff pace, for the going was much 
easier, and while the wheelbarrow sank a bit 
deeper into the sand, it at least did not have to 


236 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

be lifted over tree trunks or dragged through 
swamp grass. Even at that, more than once 
Tex had to call a halt on the impatient Win. 
However, by changing places at short intervals, 
they managed to make good time. Not a soul 
did they see, but it was with great relief that they 
topped the last rise and saw stretching before 
them a w^ooded slope that gave way to a familiar- 
looking expanse of prairie. 

The last few hundred yards were made almost 
on the run. A brief rest on the edge of the tim- 
ber put them in trim for scouting out the hiding 
place of the Golden Vulture, This proved to be 
a tedious job, as they had no idea which direction 
to take. Finally they divided forces, agreeing to 
come out every hundred yards and exchange sig- 
nals. They were fully a mile and a half apart 
when Win’s triumphant signal turned Tex’s steps 
about, slowed somewhat by the thought that, 
according to agreement, he would have the task 
of hauling the gasoline. 

But when he at last gave a final exhausted push 
and dropped full length on the turf, it was with 
the satisfaction of knowing that his chum had not 
been idle. The Golden Vulture had been pulled 


In the Lone Star Patrol 237 

out into the open, and Win, grease from head to 
foot, was just putting the final touches to a thor- 
ough overhauling. It was a matter of moments 
before the last of the gasoline had gurgled into 
the tanks. Then — 

‘‘ Now where? ’’ asked Win. 

“ All aboard,’^ was the answer. The ranch. 

‘‘ But why? ’’ 

‘‘No time to waste talking. Pierre Lopez is 
the man who escaped from the Boy Scouts at 
Chichua. He is the man who captured me in your 
mine. If I^m any judge of human nature, that^s 
where he made for — the mine. He was wounded, 
and he knows he^s safe there. 

“ But that’s taking a long chance.” 

“You mean he’s taking a long chance of get- 
ting away safe. It’s a cinch we’ve got big odds 
on anybody else who tries to follow him. He’ll 
have a hard time hiding away from the Golden 
Vulture — if you ever get her olf the ground.” 

For answer Win gave a twist to the crank, 
jerked his levers, and within twenty feet had left 
the earth at an abrupt slant that brought a gasp 
from Tex. Neither spoke a word; Tex reached 
over and pulled the field glasses from their case. 


238 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

while Win kept his eyes straight ahead. The 
propellers hummed faster and faster; the wind 
sang past their ears in a dizzying drone. At a 
thousand feet, the Golden Vulture, with a sudden 
lurch, was swung back on a level keel, and the 
earth flew past with express train speed. 

Tex, through the field glasses, had a wide view 
of the country. Woods and rivers and prairies 
and purple hills met his searching gaze every- 
where. Here and there were houses, far apart, 
and off to the north was a town. Perhaps five 
miles to the southeast a small detachment of 
mounted troops galloped along, but after a 
moment’s scrutiny Tex turned away, satisfied that 
they were Carranzistas on a commonplace errand. 

The boys crossed a line of low hills, well 
wooded; and now the character of the country 
changed. It was rough and broken; canyons and 
treeless, grassless stretches of sand and sun- 
baked clay merged with dense thickets of chap- 
arral and cactus-filled deserts. It was an ideal 
route for a fugitive, and Tex scanned every foot 
closely. A pack train of mules was all that moved 
in the wide stretches below. 

They swung sharply to the west, crossed a 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


239 


meandering river and followed the course of u 
valley winding among steep hills. Cattle were 
grazing below, attended by solitary horsemen. 
One sent a bnllet whizzing close past the two 
aviators — ont of pure curiosity. Win glanced 
at Tex, who nodded his head. The Golden Vul- 
ture sought a higher and safer level. 

Once more they swerved, this time back to the 
south. A sudden exclamation burst from Tex. 

Turn west! ’’ he yelled in Win^s ear; and, a 
moment later, Higher! 

Miles away, a bare speck on the horizon, a lone 
horseman galloped hard into the south. As they 
drew nearer it was plain to see that his mount 
was far spent; that whip and spur were pulling 
the last ounce of strength from staggering legs. 
The same look showed something else. 

Less than a mile back on the trail a compact 
squad of horsemen, riding furiously but steadily, 
was drawing closer and closer. Every little bit 
a spurt of smoke told that they were in sight of 
their quarry. Win shut off the engine; they were 
now almost directly overhead, and the naked eye 
could distinguish all that was going on. 

What’s the idea? ” he shouted to Tex. 


240 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

“ TheyVe got no chance of winging him at that 
distance. ’ ’ 

He^s cutting for the timber; he’s likely to 
get away if he makes it — that’s why. They’re 
American troopers, Win, and I’ll bet — ^ 

Bet what? ” demanded Win, when JCex 
paused. 

‘ ^ Makes no difference. Look ! ’ ’ 

Below, the lone horseman, now within the 
fringe of timber, had slipped suddenly from his 
saddle. With his quirt he slashed viciously at 
his mount, till, rallying its failing strength, it 
crashed off through the brush, the man flounder- 
ing off in the opposite direction. For perhaps a 
hundred feet they could follow his course; then 
he disappeared into the brush. 

A moment later the troopers had reached the 
edge of the timber. Then they paused uncer- 
tainly, until, at a command from their leader, all 
but one dismounted. Leaving their horses, they 
scattered into the bush. 

Win had been circling, the power almost shut 
off. Without looking at Tex, he pointed the nose 
of the plane earthward and began a rapid climb 
down. About three minutes later he hit the 


In the Lone Star Patrol 241 

ground and rolled to a stop hardly a dozen feet 
away from the startled horseman. He sat firm 
in the saddle, however, his rifle alert, until he 
saw that the aeroplane held two boys — undoubt- 
edly American boys, at that. Then a broad grin 
came over his face. 

Howdy! he called. Where ’d you drop 
from — and who be ye? ” 

“ Taylor and Clark of Lone Star Boy Scouts 
of Chichua, Tex.,’^ answered Win with a snappy 
salute. Aviator corps begs to offer its services 
for scouting duty.’’ 

The man looked them over keenly. Apparently 
satisfied with his scrutiny, he once more unslung 
his rifle and fired three shots into the air in 
rapid succession. It was nearly fifteen minutes 
before his signal was answered. Then, one by 
one, the soldiers straggled in. Among the last 
was the officer in charge, whom the boys recog- 
nized as Sergeant McConnell, who had been with 
Captain Allen at the relief of Buena Vista Ranch. 

‘‘What! You boys again?” he exclaimed, 
striding forward and shaking them by the hand. 

“It’s a habit we have,” answered Tex; “ turn- 
ing up when we’re needed.” 


242 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

■ You^re sure needed if tlie rest didn’t find any 
more than I did. How about it, men? Any 
traces? ” 

Nary trace,” answered each in turn. 

Melted into the ground,” added the last. 

I made a complete circle,” confessed McCon- 
nell, and I didn’t see as much as a pebble out 
of its place. ’ ’ 

Who is it? ” asked Win. Who you 
chasing? ” 

‘‘Not the slightest idea,” answered the ser- 
geant cheerfully. “We were on scouting detail 
about fifteen miles back. Courier just came in 
with news of a raid across the line on San 
Marino. Orders to look out for stragglers. This 
fellow was no straggler — he was a streaker — 
went like a blue one — and got away with one of 
our horses. We took after him. He gave us the 
slip, and we’re out one roan mare.” 

“ You’re out five hundred dollars besides. 
That was Pierre Lopez, and there’s a reward 
out for him.” 

“ Well, he’ll have to collect it himself, it looks 
like. Take a hundred men to find him in this 
honeycomb. ’ ’ 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


243 


‘‘ Just tlie same, Sergeant,’’ exclaimed Tex 
eagerly, “ if you’ll come with us in our sky- 
wagon I’ll show you how three can dig him out 
of his hole in a jiffy! ” 

‘‘ How do you mean, his holel You trying to 
tell me you know where he’s hiding? ” 

I do. I know where he’s hiding a sight better 
than he does himself. And I reckon it’s lucky 
Ido!” 


CHAPTEE XIX 


THE LONE STABS TKIUMPH 

And then, as it turned out, poor Tex had to 
resign his place as leader of the expedition, for 
after his plan had been discussed it was readily 
seen that there would have to be someone at each 
end of the trail. Tex was sure the fugitive was 
Lopez, and he was just as sure the bandit was 
headed for, or already in, Win’s mine. He felt 
positive that the man knew nothing of the lower 
entrance to the mine. Consequently, he would 
not be expecting attack from that quarter and it 
would be comparatively easy to slip upon him 
and overpower him. On the other hand, unless 
the exit on top of the ridge were guarded, he 
might elude capture and once more reach the 
open. 

Only Tex and Win knew the location of both 
openings, and only Win could manage the Golden 
Vulture, So Tex, eager as he was to be in at the 
death, had to resign his position as leader of the 
air forces and head ten horseless cavalrymen in 

244 


In the Lone Star Patrol 245 

a stiff climb up the ridge. Two men were left 
to mount guard over the horses; Win and the 
sergeant disappeared over the trees. 

If we sight him,” was the sergeant’s parting 
instruction, ‘‘I’ll give you two pistol-shots. 
Otherwise, we’re dipping beyond the ridge and 
taking to the mine.” 

Disappointed more than he cared to confess, 
Tex led his band toward the top of the ridge, 
which proved to be considerably farther than he 
had thought. The timber, rank with underbrush, 
covered a long, rolling slope of several miles. 
Matted vines barred their way, and boulders 
necessitated many wide detours. The sun was 
still high when they started. It was cut in half 
by the treetops when finally they stood at the 
base of a steep cliff that marked the last stage 
of their journey. 

No signal had come from the air in all this 
time, so Tex felt sure that Win and the sergeant 
were already in the midst of their dangerous 
sortie through the black passages ofi the mine. 
The bandit might already be captured — or worse, 
he might now be the victor in a combat where 
luck might easily turn the scale in his favor. 


246 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

But there was no time for vain imaginings. 
There was a very real elimh ahead of them. 
However, the troopers made easy work of it. 
Belts were taken olf and hitched together. A 
hoist here, a balancing feat two or three men 
high there — and more than one nerve-racking 
tumble — and in the space of twenty minutes the 
eleven of them stood, out of breath but safe, on 
the summit of the ridge. That, Tex was sure, 
even before he saw the dim outlines of the ranch 
a scant two miles away, was the location of Win’s 
‘‘red cross.” 

“ This way, men,” he called, and set off at a 
lively trot. But his legs were no longer fresh, 
and the rest caught up to him long before he 
reached the mine. The place was still and 
deserted. Search as they might, no sign could 
they find that anyone had recently passed that 
way. They struck matches and peered within, 
but the feeble light revealed nothing. One of the 
men suggested that four of them remain on guard 
while the rest go in, but Tex would not allow it. 
So they all sat down and waited. 

Tex was restless and after a moment he got up 
and left the group. Curiosity impelled hipi to 


In the Lone Star Patrol 247 

hunt out the place where the Mexican raiders had 
scaled the cliff that day the ranch was besieged. 
It was growing quite dark now and it was no 
small task to locate the break in the rugged cliff- 
edge. It was by the merest accident he found it at 
all. Stumbling over a loose stone, he listened as he 
saw it go over the edge, to hear it crash far below. 
There was no crash. He came close to the brink 
and dropped flat on his stomach to look over. 
And there was the path! 

There was even more. As Tex raised himself 
on his hands, he felt the ground give under him 
and his fingers slipped into a hole that somehow 
had a man-made feel to him. He groped about 
carefully, his suspicion growing stronger. It was 
the print of a shoe. 

There was only one answer to that. The hot 
sun beat upon this spot, yet the impression was 
still damp; someone had used that trail within 
the last few hours. And that someone, Tex wildly 
conjectured, could be none other than the man 
they pursued — Pierre Lopez. 

Something impelled him to look toward the 
ranchhouse. For an instant he was sure his eyes 
had tricked him. In one of the windows, for the 


248 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

merest flash, there showed a point of light. But 
the next second it flared out again — and then 
all was dark. 

And then Tex laughed, for the simplest expla- 
nation in the world occurred to him: it was Win 
or the sergeant, or both, who were there at the 
ranchhouse. But the next moment he changed 
his mind. There was the sound of many voices 
back at the mine entrance. Then came a burst of 
loud laughter and then, in the hearty voice of 
Sergeant McConnell: 

Where’s that bold bandit hunter who told us 
a five-hundred-dollar reward was hiding in that 
spooky cave! ” 

And the voice of Win in reply: 

Off figuring up another wild goose chase for 
us, I bet! ” 

There was more laughter, and then the mocking 
tones of Win: 

Oh, you Boy Scout! Oh, you leader of the 
Lone Star bandit chasers! ” 

But there was no answer. Instead, a deter- 
mined, khaki-clad Scout, his jaws set and his 
muscles tense, carefully but fearlessly began pick- 
ing his way down an invisible trail. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 249 

'‘I’ll show them! ” he muttered defiantly, and 
then, every faculty alert, he cautiously climbed, 
step by step, inch by inch, down the very face 
of the clitf. It would have been a hard enough 
path by day; by night it was doubly difficult, for 
half the dangers were unseen. 

But trained muscles and steady nerves stood 
him well in hand — until the very last. Then, 
snap went a treacherous bush, and over and over 
in undignified tumbles rolled an exasperated Boy 
Scout. It was only a ten-foot fall and meant 
nothing worse than bumps and bruises, but Tex 
was no less huffy for that. 

Waiting a few minutes, to make sure that he 
had not been observed from above, he set out 
along the bush-covered slope until he came 
directly opposite the ranchhouse. Then, dodging 
from cover to cover, crouching low and making 
no sound, he drew ever nearer the group of 
buildings. He could not tell in which one he 
had seen the light, but surmised it was the ranch- 
house itself, so toward the kitchen door he wound 
his stealthy way. 

His hand reached up, caught the knob and 
began softly to turn it, his ear close to the door 


250 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

so tliat he could stop at the slightest alarm. But 
there was no sound from within. The door 
yielded ; he noiselessly pushed it open and tiptoed 
inside. All was dark — and deathly still. 

And then, out of the darkness and the stillness, 
came a sound that sent a thrill up his backbone 
and doubled his heart-beats. It came from the 
comer of the room. His hand swung back to 
his hip, clutching at his tiny revolver, ready to 
draw and fire at the first alarm. It came, in a 
repetition of the terrifying sound. But by now 
Tex had nerved himself and was able to identify 
the noise. It was a groan. 

Within that room was someone in deepest 
agony, there could be no doubt of that. It might 
be the bandit — Tex felt sure it was. Perhaps 
he was beyond resistance, and perhaps the slight- 
est noise would bring a bullet. It would take 
nerve to find out. Tex was determined to take 
the chance. 

He found a match, and then, the revolver in 
his left hand, pointed into the comer whence the 
groans had come, he struck the match on his 
trouser-leg. The first flare da^izled him, but he 
saw enough. That huddled form on the floor 


In the Lone Star Patrol 251 

could do him no harm. A lamp stood on a shelf 
at his elbow. He lighted it. 

There lay Pierre Lopez, tossing in delirium. A 
rifle stood against the wall. At his belt hung a 
Coitus forty-four. These Tex removed. Going to 
the door he emptied the Colt into the air. 

‘‘ Theyfll hear that, I bet,’’ he vowed as the 
deafening roar echoed back from the ridge. 

A second later an answering rifle shot told him 
his guess was correct. 

He went back to the side of the suffering 
bandit. A quick examination showed that the 
man carried an ugly wound in his side. Blood- 
soaked bandages showed the ineffectual efforts to 
stop the flow. Tex’s knowledge of first aid came 
-handy. He bathed and dressed the wound with 
antiseptics he found in a medicine chest in the 
bathroom, and then with professional-looking 
bandages made of clean linen rags, bound up the 
injured side. The groans ceased, and the man 
slept, without once having opened his eyes. 

It was fully an hour later before a hail from 
outside told the waiting Scout that his friends 
had come. It was a crestfallen Win who stared 
unbelievingly at the helpless Lopez. The sergeant 


252 


The Boy Scouts of the Air 

was profuse in his apologies. I take oif my 
hat to you! he exclaimed. 

Barring the fact that you lost it when you 
fell off the ledge,’’ corrected Win, glad to laugh 
off his embarrassment. 

After Tex’s story had been told, and the ser- 
geant had sketched their adventures in the mine. 
Win asked: 

And now what ? ” 

We’ll have to bring round our horses, first 
of all, and then in the morning we’ll make a litter 
and see if we can haul your friend back to civili- 
zation. It’ll be a slow job — and none too safe, 
either — but it’s the best we can do.” 

How about the Vulture? ” It was Tex who 
spoke. 

“ What’s that! ” 

‘‘ The aii^ship. It carries three. He’ll never 
live through any overland trip ; he ’s lost a lot of 
blood. We can make Chichua in less than — ” 

‘‘ In three hours,” interrupted Win. ‘‘If we 
start at daybreak we can be there before seven 
o ’clock. ’ ’ 

“ Well, I’ll let the men bring in the horses, and 
we can talk it over. Morning’s some time off. 


In the Lone Star Patrol 


253 


There no reason I couldn’t go along with you? ” 
The sergeant spoke to Win. 

None,” answered Tex, ‘‘ except that he’s my 
captive. ’ ’ 

^ ^ Eight you are ! ’ ’ Sergeant McConnell 
saluted. “ I detail Special Scout Clark to take 
charge of the prisoner and deliver him to Captain 
Allen, Company K, at Chichua. Also deliver this 
dispatch.” He sat down at the kitchen table and 
began writing. Davis,” he added, looking up, 
“ take three men and go bring in the horses.” 

He finished writing, folded the brief letter and 
handed it to Tex, who put it in his pocket. 

Now,” said the sergeant, ‘‘ for bed.” 

Now,” said Win, for my workshop, to send 
a wireless message.” 

It was seven o’clock next morning in Chichua. 
In the town square a great crowd of people had 
gathered, civilians and soldiers. Sheriff McBurry 
was bustling officiously about, blustering at those 
who crowded past the edge of the walk. In an 
inconspicuous corner stood seven boys, clad in 
soiled but natty khaki. Their expectant eyes 
scanned the blank sky eagerly. 


254 The Boy Scouts of the Air 

Presently, from all tlie crowd, rose an excited 
cry: They’re coming! ” 

A humming sound that grew louder and louder. 
A black speck that became larger and larger. 
A whizzing monster that sped across the sky in 
a sharp slant, and then, whirr-r-r — came to rest 
at the far edge of the crowd. Two boys stepped 
stiffly from their seats in the Golden Vulture; 
seven Boy Scouts strode briskly up beside the 
waiting two. As one they wheeled, marched over 
to where Captain Allen stood before his company, 
and halted. Nine hat brims were touched in a 
snappy salute. The captain’s sword went up in 
startled acknowledgment. 

‘‘ A dispatch from Sergeant McConnell, sir, 
and a prisoner. ’ ’ It was Tex who spoke. 

The captain gravely unfolded the paper, read 
the communication to himself, and then half 
turned. He raised his hand, then read; 

The pluckiest boy in Texas — two of them 
— is responsible for the capture of Pierre Lopez, 
whom they are bringing. Tex Clark tells me he ’s 
a Boy Scout — a Lone Star. If they’re all like 
him, I suggest that you enlist every last one of 
them for active service with the regulars.” 








